


The heart and the Head

by FandomsOverLife



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Bullying, Fluff, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Teen!John, Teen!Sherlock, Teenlock, William Sherlock Scott Holmes - Freeform, sherlock bbc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 33,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomsOverLife/pseuds/FandomsOverLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has never been easy to get along with for most people and has been expelled from previous schools. He was forced to go to a boarding school his parents thought would be better for him. He has been attending  it for 3 years now and the bullying isn't getting any better, but of course he doesn't let on to anyone. Well almost anyone...</p><p>(I did not create the cover for this story,  nor do I own Sherlock BBC or any of the other sherlock adaptations or the Arthur Conan Doyle books)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baskerville Academy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I am going to attempt to write another Johnlock fic, but it's going to be a teenlock this time - so yea I hope this first chapter is alright, sorry it's a bit short but it's only meant to be an intro chapter :) I hope you like it -M 
> 
> Oh also when football is mentioned in the fic it is in the English term, meaning the round black and white ball.
> 
> (Pssst mb [Buy Me a Coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/A36817Y0))

"There is no way in hell that I am going back to that godforsaken prison!" Sherlock slammed his bedroom door in pure frustration and threw himself onto his bed.

It was nearing the end of the christmas holidays, which meant that Sherlock and Mycroft had to return to school.

"Sherlock you're over reacting, it can't possibly be that bad." Sherlocks mothers voice softly came through the wood of his bedroom door.

 _'Sure, that's what you think'_ Sherlock thought as he rolled over onto his back pulling his pillow across his face.

Sherlock, along with his brother Mycroft, where attending a high end private boarding school. One of which you can only attend if you are extravagantly rich or if you get in via scholarship. It went by the title of Baskerville Academy and Sherlock hated everyday of it.

"I just don't understand why you don't want to go back to Baskerville Academy? Mycroft seems to enjoy it." His mother Violet quired.

"Mother, please just leave me alone!" Sherlock shouted

"This school may be your last chance Sherlock" Violet spoke sadly "All of the other schools that you went to expelled you because they couldn't handle you and that is why you have to go to a boarding school now." She went silent for a moment. "I thought we had finally found a school that you liked and that seemed to be able to handle you, you've been there for three years. What happened?"

Sherlock didn't answer and soon he heard footsteps walking down the hallway and down the stairs. He huffed a sigh of relief.

He never told anyone why he disliked Baskerville Academy so much or why he had purposely gotten expelled from all of the other schools. At least they weren't boarding schools. If something happens in Baskerville academy, he has almost nowhere to hide.

***

"I'm so glad that you got in Johnny" Harry exclaimed and she frantically dragged John around the shops. "You'll be able to get away from dad now and have a bit of space for yourself-" she stopped walking and turned to John "that is assuming you don't have to be sharing a room with someone."

John, just happy that they had stopped walking, had entirely missed the question. "Sorry, what" he asked rather breathlessly.

Ever since he had been excepted to be in that damn school, Harry, his slightly older sister had been fussing all over him and was currently taking him shopping for school supplies. John of course had been stuck carrying the heavy load of all of the text books and other necessities.

"Jeez Johnny, I don't know how you'll survive on the football team if you can't cope with a little supply shopping!" she exclaimed "But what I asked was if you have to have a roommate or not."

"Oh, no I don't, everyone in the school gets their own room, I think." He stopped to think for a moment "If I'm right my room is on floor 2, room 20, block B"

"What's the B for?" Harry asked inquisitively

"I think there is only one boys building and one girls building. The boys building is the second one, so the girls dorm would probably be block A. Based on the pictures on the website, both of the buildings are huge though." Harry nodded quickly acknowledging Johns response, before saying something about him needing binders and rushing down another aisle, leaving John to hobble along behind her, carrying the load of books with him.

As much as he wants to get away from farther, he doesn't want to have to go to some stupid, posh boarding school.


	2. Baggage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope that you liked the first chapter, this chapter will hopefully be a bit longer - M

**3 days later:**

"That should be everything" Sherlock mumbled to himself as he packed the last of his possessions back into his bags ready for a new school year.

He greatly disliked Baskerville Academy. He didn't hate it though, he'll give it that. Unlike all of the other schools that he's previously attended, he doesn't get beaten up every day and when he does it's only about three times a week, which is a personal record for him. Probably because he has a good hiding spot.

Sherlocks favourite place at the academy is the library. When you first walk in through the double doors to the library, there is a hardwood floor - much like the rest of the school - but this is much cleaner and is covered by an old, large red rug in the middle of the room, leading to a staircase. Through the double doors on the right, slightly off to the side towards the middle of the room, is a large librarians desk. The librarians desk may be large, but the library is huge.

On the bottom floor there are small round tables and some confortable chairs, scattered accross the dark red rug. The back wall is shelved with books, crossing from one side of the wall, to the other. If you wish to retrieve a book from the top of the shelves, you have to use the rolling ladder that's attached to the many bookcases. On the left wall of the bottom room, there are four, large, arched, evenly spaced, windows. Each of them look out onto the opening grounds where the main gate to the school is. At the base of each window sit seven desks, four infront of the windows and one between each of the three gaps. Atop each of the desks sits a computer, available for students to use for their subject studies.

Behind the librarians desk, closer to the middle of the room is a tall, red carpeted, spiral staircase leading up to the second and third floors of the library. Both floors are stacked with books with shelves crossing the whole of each room, with the occasional desk and computer up against a wall by yet another window.

The library is filled with all types of books ranging from new releases to decades old, fiction to non fiction and from neuroscience to sports. There are also certain spots where you could hide for days and no one would find you, not bullies and not even Mycroft. But, the main reason the library is sherlock favourite place, is because it is the only place in the school where he can feel most at home.

***

John ran up to his bedroom and locked his door as fast as humanly possible. His farther was drunk again, this isn't the worst he has been though.

His mother died in a car accident seven years ago when John was only ten years old.

His farther was driving.

John and Harry where at home alone when it happened. Harry, being fifteen at the time, was looking after her little brother. Their parents where coming back from one of their friends birthday parties, his farther had drunk too much, but had insisted that he was fine to drive. Further down from their friends house, they swerved and hit a tree - their mother was dead by the time the ambulance and police cars had arrived. Their farther on the other hand, had fled the scene. John had never forgiven him and their farther has just gotten worse and worse since, because he has no one to stop him from doing anything now.

There was a loud banging at his bedroom door. "COME OUT HERE JOHN, YOU WAIST OF SKIN, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" His farther slurred "GET OUT HERE YOU FAGGOT!"

John hated that term, he has had to put up with that word ever since he came out in the seventh grade. He was seventeen now and in year 11. Ever since his farther had found out that he was Bi, he beat him every chance he got.

When Harry came out as gay, the first person she told was John. She was seventeen at the time. Not too long after she had told John, he aswell came out, but only to Harry. No one else knew, so they decided to make a pact to come out together - and that's when things got so much worse. Harry and John are each others only support now. Most of their 'friends' abandoned them when they found out and their farther started to beat them.

As much as John wanted to leave and get out of the horrible household he had to live in. He really didn't want to leave his sister behind to deal with him all alone.

Suddenly he heard another person yelling "Hey, leave him alone he's got enough crap going on in his life at the moment!" Harry

John opened the door as fast as possible, only to see his farther advancing towards Harry.

"Harry, get out of there, he's going to beat you to a bloody pulp!" John yelled accross to his sister on the other side of the hall and their farther froze, occasionally yelling nosense sentances.

"No John, I've had enough of his crap!" His sister screamed "He can't treat us like this!" Harry was currently twenty two and had a girlfriend named Clara.

"Come over here john quickly, it's not like we have much stuff here anyway - I'm moving in with Clara and she said you could come too, before you go off to boarding school!" Harry yelled as she started towards the main door.

"But Harry-" John started and got cut off by Harry.

"It's now or never John, you're only seventeen, so you can't leave by yourself!"

"But what about my-"

"The school will supply you with most things and a bag with some of our stuff is already at Clara's, I have your school books and almost everything! Please John."

John quickly grabbed his laptop from his bedroom and tried to run past his dad, but he was not fast enough.

"WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU TWO ARE GOING!" Their farther yelled as he grabbed the back of Johns jumper. John struggled against the touch.

"JOHN!" Harry screamed out of shock, she dropped the bag she was holding and ran over to John to pull him out of their dads grasp. "Let go of him!" she yelled again as she kicked her dad in the shins, causing him to let go of John.

Harry quickly grabbed Johns arm, picked up her bag and they both ran out of the door. Leaving their dad behind, chasing and shouting profanity at them.

As they ran down the stairs they could hear him stumbling after them.

"COME BACK HERE YOU RUBBISH KIDS, I NEED TO TEACH YOU A LESSON!"

"Quickly he's catching up!" Harry said in a panicked voice to John as she took his laptop from him. She knew John has a weak shoulder from one of the 'lessons' that their farther gave John a while back, not too long after he first came out.

They finally both reached the bottom of the stairs and bolted for the final door. Harry opened it for John, with one hand on the handle and the other arm holding onto their bag and Johns laptop. They dashed through.

Once they were outside, John realized that Harry must have called Clara earlier, because her car was parked right outside.

"Quick, get in!" Clara said through a crack in the car window. She could see John and Harry's dad coming down quickly behind them.

Harry slammed the building door in their dads face as she and John ran into the car, shut the doors and quickly drove off. Their dad chased the car for a minute or two before finally giving up and heading back to his building.

"Christ, are you two alright, I know you said your dad was horrible Harry, but that was ridiculous!" Clara stated with both worry and disbelief lacing her voice.

"I'm okay now, thank you" Harry said quietly as she leaned over to give Clara a quick kiss on the cheek.

John smiled, it was nice to see that Harry had found someone who loved her as much as she loved Clara.

"What about you John, are you alright?" Clara asked

"Yea" he said uncertainly, then paused for a moment. "a-actually" he stuttered a little bit "No."


	3. Away to Baskerville

John had been living at Clara's flat for the past few days now. Well, Harry and Clara's flat. It was a reasonably large flat with two bedrooms, obviously his was the smallest one, but he didn't care. It was still bigger than his bedroom at their dads house.

Last night John had packed his bags in preparation for today. He had all of his things here now, this was only because Harry and John snuck into their dads small flat while he was out the other day. They knew he was never home when it was light outside, so it was a pretty safe bet he wouldn't be there.

Clara stayed outside the building and helped put the different possessions that John and Harry carried down into the car. Once everything was out of both of their rooms (apart from the furniture), they left.

John was glad that he didn't have to go back there again and since he got into the academy on a football scholarship, his farther didnt have to pay - so he couldn't stop John from going there.

The one reason that he didn't want to go before was because he didnt want to leave Harry alone with his farther, But now that she was living here with Clara, he didn't need to worry too much anymore.

"Almost ready to go John!" Harry yelled/asked him from down stairs.

"Yea, just a sec." John replied. He pick up his suitcase and book bag and headed downstairs towards Harry.

John was trying to pack and move as fast a possible, but it doesn't actually matter what time he arrives at Baskerville Academy. He knows that. No one has any lessons for the first week, so students would be arriving at different points during the week. John just wanted to get there as soon as possible, because he wanted to get use to his surroundings.

"Bye John, we're going to miss you around here! Have fun at your new school and don't get into too much trouble" Clara said as she gave John a wink and a hug.

"Haha, yea - i'll try not to" John chuckled

"Drive safely." Clara whispered in Harry's ear as she leaned over to give her a kiss on the lips and to hand her the keys.

"I will" Harry whispered back giving Clara one last kiss before leaving with John down the stairs.

***

It was at least half an hour before they arrived at the gates to the school. There was still a long drive way to go down though.

"Are you okay, you've been really quiet lately?" Harry asked in worried tone as she pulled up the car, on the dirt road, just outside of the academy.

"No" John said quietly, looking down at his lap. "What if it happens again."

"What if what happens?" Harry asked equally as quiet.

"When they find out" John said as he slowly lifted his head to look Harry in the eyes.

"Oh, oh John" Harry whispered as she pulled him into a hug "you're going to be fine, those people where jerks and you're older now, people are more excepting" she spoke softly trying to re-assure John that he'll be okay. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "are you okay now?"

"Yea, thanks" John gave a small smile and went to get his bags out of the boot.

"Do you need any help with your bags?"

"No, I should be okay. Bye Harry" John gave Harry one final hug, as she stepped out of the car to say goodbye.

"Don't forget to keep me up to date with everything that happens, alright!" Harry smiled as she pulled away from the hug.

"I will. Bye, Harry"

"Bye, Johnny" Harry said, she knew that would make him smile a bit as he walked off.

She was right.

***

Sherlock was sitting on his bedroom floor with his best friend and also his dog, Redbeard, sitting in his lap.

"I'm sorry I have to go again boy" Sherlock said softly, he stroked and ruffled his dogs fur. "I promise that I'll come back as soon as I can and we can play a game of fetch or something okay!" Redbeard rolled onto his back, in Sherlocks lap, with his tounge lolling out, begging Sherlock to rub his belly.

Sherlock chuckled and Redbeard let out a small whine, because sherlock still hadn't rubbed his belly. Sherlock chuckled again and scratched the dogs stomach.

With Redbeard panting and himself laughing, he didn't notice that Mycroft was standing by his bedroom door.

Mycroft was actually smiling at the sight before him, it was only when Sherlock was with his dog, that he ever saw him this happy.

"I'm afraid it's time to go brother." Mycroft finally spoke up and Sherlock almost jumped a foot into the air. It was only when he was with Redbeard, that he didn't take in his surroundings.

With a large sigh and a kiss on the head for Redbeard, of whom sherlock promised he'd come back soon to and once Mycroft was out of the room, sherlock told Redbeard that he loved him very much and that he was going to miss his best friend. He was given a sloppy lick on the cheek in return.

***

"Do I really have to go? God knows I'm smarter than everybody at the school put together!" Sherlock complained and dragged his bags behind him, as he walked down the carpeted, marble stairs in his, you could call it a house, but it would be more accurate if you where to call it a mansion.

"You will not be the smartest one there sherlock" Mycroft sneered

"Oh yes, that takes me back. Stop talking Sherlock, I'm the smart one!" Sherlock mimicked in a high pitched voice

"I am the smart one!" Mycroft grumbled. "Come on, walk faster we're going to be late."

"Mycroft, you know as well as I do that we don't even have to be there for a few days!"

"Yes, well I would like to get ready for the up comming exams and get settled before classes start" Mycroft said flatly as they walked outside to the car.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You mean the exams at the end of the year!"

"Just shut up and put your things in the car" Mycroft said, with a hint of irritation in his voice. He popped the boot open, placed his bags inside the car and then assisted Sherlock with his bags.

Mycroft was currently in year 13 at Baskerville Academy and was only 19 years old. The school teaches the years 8-12, but offers an extra year level to high achieving students who wish to go off to extravagant university's.

***

Exactly twenty six minutes and thirty two seconds later, by Sherlocks counting, they arrived at the bottom of the school building.

"Do I really have to do this again" Sherlock groaned and Mycroft gave him his trademark look.

"Fine, I guess i'll put up with another year of stupidity" Sherlock mumbled as he got out of the car and walked over to where Mycroft was pulling the bags out of the boot.

"Here you are brother mine, are you sure you have packed enough?" Mycroft asked in a slightly patronizing tone.

"Yes I have" Sherlock snarled "and do not talk down to me. I'm sixteen not four"

"I best be going and you should be to, I have locked the car, it should be fine there, until I next need it." Mycroft paused to pick up his suitcase. "Don't get into too much trouble this year, I'm sure you wouldn't want to be kicked out of this school too, after all, you have been doing well so far." Sherlock could see Mycrofts smile even though he had turned around and started to walk the other way. "whats another two years."

Sherlock sneered for about the fifth time that day and it was only 11:34 am. "Try not to start a war before the holidays Mycroft, you know what it does to mummy"

Before he picked up his bag to take to his old dorm room he looked around at his surroundings. All of the building in this school where huge and made out of stone. The school itself was a few centuries old. Vines climed up the walls of the buildings and very close to the wall, surrounding each building was an arrangement of flowers and shrubbery.

There are large black gates at the entrance to the long, windy driveway leading up to the buildings. The drive way was made up of some type of light brown soil that led up to the building and circled around heading back down to the main gates.

The grounds to the school alone are a beautiful colour of lush green and slightly dewey grass that seemed to glow under the light of the sun. The grass had scattered, but not randomly placed, pine trees. Some almost a couple of stories high. In between a cluster of pinetrees was a relatively large lake, which they could swim in, assuming the weather allowed it.

Finally Sherlock stopped looking at the grounds and started looking at the buildings.

Up from the driveway was a very large, long, slightly curbed and old, five story building with vines growing up it and with windows all accross it. This is where the office is and where the classes are held. Inside has freshly painted cream walls, with dark wood flooring. There are many classrooms and lockers lined up in the multiple halls of the building. But as for the top floor. That's just used for the three story tall library. The libraries stories aren't as high up as a normal story, but because of the high height of the roof - they are able to fit a 'three story' library onto one floor.

Behind and accross to the right from the main building, are the two dormitories accross the path from each other. Boys on left - Girls on right. These two buildings are no less beautiful than the main building, but they are smaller and squarer. Each dormitory building only has three floors and both building are identical inside and out. When you first walk in onto the dark hardwood flooring, there is a large staircase in the middle of the room. Each floor you escalate up there is a large hole in the middle of the slightly rectanglar room, of which the staircase comes out of, with plenty of room to spair. All of the different student rooms are along the rectangular walls surrounding the large stair case that continues for two more floors.

Sherlock finally picked up his bags and started to walk towards the boys dorms, he assumed Mycroft had already gone in and started walking in, but not before witnessing a sandy haired boy, giving one last goodbye hug to his sister.


	4. The dorms - part 1

John watched as Harry drove away and he gave a small, sad smile and a little wave. He was excited to be away from his farther and to finally have a little bit of independance, but he was never this far away from his sister. At least he would be able to see her on the weekend.

He decided to have a look at the scenery before heading to his dorm room, to clear his head a bit.

John properly looked around as Harry drove off, he saw a tall boy around his age walking towards the dorm rooms. He had raven coloured curls and was so skinny, it made John question his health. Along with very prominent cheekbones, he was quite attractive.

 _'No, no!'_ John suddenly thought to himself _'school hasn't even properly begun yet and I'm already checking people out. I haven't even met anyone here yet!'_ John mentally scolded himself, before making a move towards the dorms.

As he entered the building he realized how big it was. "Wow, it's like the TARDIS in here" John mumbled to himself, just before hearing snickering next to him. A pale boy, with slicked black hair was trying to hold back laughter with a slightly shorter, darker girl, with brown frizzy hair.

"Oh my god, did you just hear that!" The frizzy haired girl whispered and they both continued laughing quiety, before walking off together towards a relatively large group.

 _'Great!'_ John thought to himself _'I haven't even been here half an hour yet and I've already made myself an outcast...just great.'_

He dug a piece of paper out of his pocket that he had previously written his room numbers on. _'Yep, floor 2, room 20, block B. I'm in the right block, thats a good start'_ John thought as he dragged his bags behind him towards the staircase. _'at least I'm only on the second floor so I don't have to climb so many stair-_ ' his thought stopped dead in it's tracks as he looked up the stairs. ' _Crap_.'

The stairs consisted of at least two flights till the first floor landing, which meant he had the joy of having to climb about four flights before even reaching his room.

***

By the time he finally climed the stairs carrying his bags behind, his shoulder was killing him. He moved to the side of the stair case, so he wasn't blocking anyone's way and put his bags down.

The stairs ended in the middle of a large, rectangular room that's walls were covered with doors. Next to the staircase he had just climed was yet another staircase. It made him wonder how many story's tall the dorms where.

As he looked down to picked up his bags, he suddenly felt himself being pushed towards the ground. At least the floor was covered in a red carpet and wasn't hardwood flooring like the rest of the school, but it still hurt.

"Ouch" John mumbled. When he was pushed he fell onto his suitcase and book bag. He didn't even realize what had happed, really. As he tried to get back up, he was pushed down yet again. This time he didn't bother to try and get back up, but instead turned around so he could see who was doing it.

"Sup, nerd." The other boy said. John quickly realized it was the boy from earlier who heard his TARDIS remark.

"What did you do that for!" John asked with a small amount of anger in his voice.

"Because I can" The boy stated plainly

"Who even are you!" John asked in annoyance, as he got up again. This time he didn't get pushed over, which was a good start.

"What's it to you?" A feminine voice asked from down the stairs. As the girl came up he realized it was the frizzy haired girl from earlier who also heard the TARDIS remark.

"Well, if I'm about to get beaten to a bloody stump, I would at least like to know the names of the people who are doing it!" John replied sarcastically

"I'm Sally Donovan and this is my friend Phillip Anderson." The frizzy haired girl replied with a snarky tone. "Just call him Anderson, everyone else does."

"Yea, great" John replied as he started picking up his bags "Well, I'm gonna be going now. No offense or anything, but I really don't want to see either of you again anytime soon, excuse me." John said as tried to push past both Sally and her 'friend'.

"Where do you think you're going?" questioned Anderson

"Well, I was hoping my dorm room, but I have a feeling that's not the right answer." John remarked, he was getting more pissed off by the second.

"You're new, haven't seen you round here before. What's your name?" Sally asked.

"John" John replied cautiously.

"Well a little tip for you 'John', stay away from the freak."

"Whose the freak, that doesn't sound very nice." John asked, still not sure what was happening.

"That one." Anderson replied simply as he nodded towards the tall, lanky, curly haired boy getting his key out to go into his room.

"Oh, it's him" John said out of nowhere

"What, you know 'im or something" Sally asked, a surprised tone in her voice.

"No I just, umm" John cleared his throat "noticed him earlier."

Sally raised her eyebrow, but continued talking "He can tell you your whole life story in the blink of an eye and can tell who you where shagging the night the before." She said as she directed a glare in the direction of the boys room. "Stay away from Sherlock Holmes"

"So his name is Sherlock then?" John questioned, annoyed that they where being seemingly unreasonable towards the boy.

"Yea, but freak is more accurate" Anderson scowled. With that said they both started walked off.

"Wait one second!" John suddenly yelled, causing both Sally and Anderson to turn around abruptly.

"What?" Sally sneered

"Why are you two giving me 'tips' when five minutes ago you were pushing me down?!" John had made his voice stop yelling, but was right on the verge.

" 'Cause you're the new kid" Andersen answered

"Yea exactly, so why are you giving me tips?" John asked extremely sceptical of what answer he was going to receive.

"He's a phycopath, he goes to crime scenes and helps solve them, and d'ya know what?" Sally questioned John.

John just shook his head slowly.

"One day, showing up isn't going to be enough. One day the police will find a dead body and he'll be the one who put it there." she said without even flinching.

"I don't understand, why would he do that?" John was utterly confused by this point

"I already told you, where you not listening. He's a phycopath, he gets off on it." Then both Sally and Anderson walked off again. leaving John to think about what the hell just happened.

***

When John finally found his room, he realized it was next to the room that the boy sherlock went into.

As he opened his door he was happy to see that it truly was only his room and that he didn't have to share it with anyone. He walked in, shut the door and started to have a look around after he put his bags down on the bed.

Facing the same way as when you come into the room, the bed was on the right side of the door, with about a meter and a half gap between the two.

It was a relatively medium sized room with a cream coloured carpet. On the oppisite wall to the bed, where three windows evenly spaced on the wall, so the middle window was in the center of the room.

On the right side of the bed, closest to the window, covering half the wall was a large book case and next to it was a wardrobe that took up the other half of the wall. Underneath the middle window in the center of the room was a desk, with what looked like a confortable chair. On the left wall closest to the window was a door that lead to a bathroom and to the bathroom door was a small couch, that would be able to fit about two to three people.

In the bathroom, there was a shower in the right corner, a toilet on the same wall as the bathroom door and sink with a mirror in the middle of the left hand side wall.

After checking out the room John started to unpack. After about five minutes of unpacking, his mind began to wonder off, as he started to think about the lankey boy, who dwelled In the room beside his.

' _Surely he's not a phycopath'_ John thought, as he started to put some of his books into the bookshelf.


	5. The dorms - part 2

When Sherlock was finding the keys to unlock his dorm room, he could hear Donovan and Anderson talking about him and calling him a freak, but he just brushed it off, he was use to it by now.

Just before he entered his room, he glanced in their direction. They where talking to the boy that he had previously seen outside of the building, hugging his sister goodbye. Sherlock sighed. He deduced earlier that the new boy would be different from the rest.

"I guess not." Sherlock quietly mumbled to himself as he walked into his bedroom and shut the door, just missing hearing the new boy defend Sherlock, a person who he doesn't even know.

Sherlocks room was exactly how he had left it at the end of the last school year at the end of year 10.

All of the dorm rooms where meant to be identical, but sherlock disliked the placement of the furniture and had moved almost everything.

His couch was infront of his window, which he had moved there in place of the desk. He liked it better this way. He had also moved a coffee table that Mycroft had found somewhere in front of the couch.

His desk had been moved onto the same wall the bathroom door was on while the side was pushed up against the same wall as where you enter the room. He moved it over there when the experiments he had on it started to smell and burn through the desk. It had never occured to him to just clean up the experiments. He had also moved his wardrobe next to his desk to make more space in the room.

The bookcase had been moved too. He was easily able to shift it from one wall to the other, without too much hassle. The bookcase now took up the space of the wall between the door and the wall on the right hand side. The bookcase was so full now that some of the shelves on it where starting to bend.

He had also moved his bed into the middle of the right wall, between the window on the left and the bookcase on the right, so he had a space next to each side of the single bed.

He had left the bathroom the same, mostly because he couldn't move anything in there.

Sherlock sat on his bed and started to unpack his suitcase. In the very top of the case was a photo in a frame of which he was very fond of. He knew that sentiment was a chemical defect found on the loosing side, but for this he made an exception.

He picked it up carefully and smiled at it before moving it over to the coffee table.

Within the golden picture frame, that sherlock was so proud of, was a picture of redbeard and himself when he was five years old.

The picture was of redbeard sitting down, seemingly smiling with his tounge hanging out the side of his mouth. Next to him was a ten year old Sherlock, dressed in a pirate costume with his arms hanging around Redbeards neck. Sherlock had an eye-patch over his right eye and had a large black pirates on that was just a little bit too big for him. He was also wearing pirates clothes, with a long navey blue pirates jacket over the top. Sherlock can't recall a time when he was happier.

That was the thing he hated most about coming here. He had to leave Redbeard behind.

After he put the picture back down onto the coffee table, he went over to his bed, moved the suitcase off and escaped into his mind palace.

***

**3 hours later**

Sherlock figured he must have fallen asleep at some point while wondering around his mind palace, because when someone banged on his door, he almost jumped out of his skin.

He begrudgingly got off of his and when to answer the door, but not before making sure he looked half decent in the bathroom mirror. He was wearing his dark purple button up shirt, black jeans and red hightop converse shoes. His hair was a bit ruffled up, but at this point he didn't care.

"Yes?" He asked as he opened the door.

"You absolute twat!" The boy at his door yelled, who was a year or so older than him.

"Christ, what have I done now!" Sherlock asked, annoyed at being woken.

Suddenly Sherlock was pulled by the collar of his shirt and pressed up against the wall next to his door.

"YOU TOLD MY GIRLFRIEND I CHEATED ON HER!" The older boy yelled at the top of his lungs. Although sherlock is tall, he was still shorter than the boy pressing him up against the wall.

"Well, Chris" Sherlock replied casually "That's because you where cheating on her."

"Yea, but she wasn't meant to find that out!" Chris yelled as he punched Sherlock in the stomatch. Sherlock immediately folded over and fell onto the floor.

Chris was a part of the football team and was gigantic. He was at least a foot taller than Sherlock and about ten times more muscular.

Sherlock groaned as he fell to the floor "Chris, just stop thi-" he stopped talking and quickly traded it in for a groan as he was kicked in the ribs.

Chris wasn't going to stop this time, Sherlock deduced. Before the holidays, Sherlock had mistakenly let it slip that Chris was cheating on his girlfriend Holly. He didn't even mean to say it out loud, it just, sort of, happened.

Sherlock was starting to black out.

Chris punched him once in the jaw and then continued to kick him in the ribs, until-

"Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing!"


	6. Help is on the way

As Sherlocks eyes began to shut and he started to black out, he heard a shout. He wasn't able to see who it was who had come to his aid, because he got punched in the face one more time before he passed out.

After he had punched Sherlock in the face one last time, Chris bolted down the stairs.

***

Greg ran over to Sherlock, who was now lying on his side, on the floor, unconscious.

"What the hell did you do now?" Greg asked under his breath "School hasn't even started yet!"

Greg scooped Sherlock up but he was heavier than he looked and caused Greg to stumble back a bit to lean against the wall, or at least what he thought was a wall.

Suddenly Greg found himself falling backwards and before he knew it, he was on his back with Sherlock lying across his chest, staring up at a stranger.

***

"Christ!" John suddenly yelled in surprise, as he watched a stranger, holding the boy he had seen earlier, fall through the door.

John walked over to look at the, slightly older boy, who was now lying on his bedroom floor.

"Hello" Greg said, sounding a bit winded. "Mind helping me up, here?"

"Oh right, yea sure" John said, still slightly dazed at what had just happened as he helped Greg into a sitting up position.

"Would you mind telling me what just happened?" Greg questioned as he carefully stood up, still holding Sherlock. "Would you mind if I-" Greg nodded towards the bed.

"No, not at all" John answered, as Greg placed Sherlock onto the bed.

"I heard a bit of yelling and a thump on my door, so I opened it." John replied to the first question.

Suddenly they both heard a moan coming from the bed so they turned around to face Sherlock.

"Geoff?" Sherlock asked with his eyes still closed and a hoarse voice.

"Yea, Sherlock?" Greg questioned, he decided to let this one go.

There was no reply.

"What happened to him?" John asked as he went over to Sherlock. "Actually on second thought, who are you?" John was still baffled as to what was happening. Not five minutes ago he was sitting on the couch reading a book.

"I'm Greg, this is Sherlock and he's like this because he tends to get on the wrong side of people." Greg said, as he started rubbing the back of his head out of pure awkwardness.

"What happened." John asked, more sternly this time

"This football guy, Chris, who's gigantic by the way, was beating the shit out of him when I came across him. He gave him one more swift kick to the ribs, before punching him in the jaw and running off." Greg replied in an irritated voice. "I wish people would stop doing this to him, it's not like he's always asking for it, he's just doing what he knows."

"And what would that be exactl-" John started but was interrupted from a groan coming from Sherlock as he finally opened his eyes.

"What's going on? Where's Redbeard, is he okay!" Sherlock asked with his eyes slightly lidded and a hint of panic in his voice.

"Redbeards fine Sherlock" he looked around to mouth the word 'dog' to John quickly, before continuing. "You're in -" Greg paused for a second, trying to think of the name of the boy who's room he was in.

"Oh, John" John filled in the gap, realizing that he hadn't actually told Greg his name yet.

"Right, you're in Johns room" Greg completed his sentence.

John walked over to the side of the bed, next to Greg and Sherlock.

"Do you think you can sit up?" John questioned as he looked down at Sherlock.

The Raven haired boy started to move himself up until he was leaning up against the headboard.

"Okay, well that's a start." John said under his breath.

"Just a second, i'm going to get my med kit from the bathroom and i'll check you out to make sure you don't have any broken ribs or anything" John said as he started to turn around.

"I'm fine!" Sherlock insist as he attempted to get off of Johns bed to stand up, but instead he wobbled as he stood up, lost his footing while taking a step and promptly started to fall over. Luckily John was there to catch him, as he fell into his chest.

John chuckled "I think it's very clear that you are not fine" John laughed again as he started to sit Sherlock on the floor and saw his nose crinkle.

***

By the time John came back from the bathroom with the medical kit, Sherlock was still sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and Greg was now sitting on Johns bed, with his legs hanging over the edge.

You could now see definite bruising on Sherlocks cheek and although he was trying to hide it, John could tell he was in pain.

"Right, is it okay if I do this?" John asked Sherlock "I'm training to be a doctor, so I know a good deal of first aid."

"I know" was all Sherlock said, while Greg put a hand over his face, clearly knowing what was going to happen next and expecting the worst.

"How could you possibly know that?" John asked.

"You have a lot of medical books stacked up in your bookshelf, you have a chemistry book that's sitting on the couch that you where clearly reading before Greg and I came in and you also have a med kit on hand. That points to either psychiatrist or doctor, easy." Sherlock summarized while John just stood in front of him in complete and utter surprise.

"I could tell you details about your life, but as I can easily deduce, you know that I am currently in immense pain and that I wish for it to stop as soon as possible." As Sherlock stopped, he braced himself waiting for another punch.

"That, was, amazing!' John said with pauses between each word, sounding stunned.

Sherlock suddenly looked up "wait really?"

"Yea" John smiled "completely and utterly terrific." John finished

"That's not what people usually say" Sherlock said casually

"What do they usually say?" Cautioned John

Sherlock smirked "Piss off"

***

When John started to giggle at the remark, Sherlock gave out a throaty chuckle and Greg sat on the edge of the bed, with a disbelieving smile on his face.

' _Sherlock bloody Holmes is actually talking to an almost stranger and not only is he talking to him, he is laughing with him. Actually with him. Johns laughter isn't even a pity laugh!'_ Greg thought as he continued to watch in amazement. _'I don't think I've actually ever seen him genuinely laugh before. Well apart from when he's with Redbeard'._

***

Once they had both stopped their laughing John moved forward towards Sherlock with the med kit and kneeled down next to him, eventually sitting on his heels.

"Okay, can you just move your head to the right so I can see your cheek, please" John asked carefully, his doctors instincts kicking in.

As Sherlock turned his head, John was able to get a closer look at what that twat had done to him.

"Do you mind if I-" John questioned as he raised his hand towards the, now swollen, cheek. Sherlock responded with a small shake of his head.

John ran his fingers over the cuts on the boys face to make sure they werent too deep. Everything was going fine until he started to get closer to a large cut on Sherlocks cheekbone, which caused the dark haired boy to quickly jolt away from the contact.

"Yea, okay" John said under his breath "That's a nasty one, i'll have to put some disinfectant on it." John explained as he reached into his med kit.

"Will it hurt?" Sherlock asked with minor worry in his voice.

John could tell he wasn't the kind of person to let emotions show easily and looked over to Greg for conformation, before answering.

"Maybe just a little bit, but not very much, alright." John said as he reached into the med kit for a medium sized cotton ball to dip into the disinfectant.

Sherlock nodded "okay."

"Good" John stated as he lifted the cotton ball up to Sherlocks cheek bone "it won't hurt too much."

As the cotton ball touched Sherlock cheek, his breath hitched and he hissed in pain a bit, giving John a quizzical look.

"Okay, I lied" John paused for a second, not being able to resist the quote that came into his head. "rule one, the doctor lies."

Sherlock let out a small smile through his pain as John continued to dab the cotton bud on Sherlocks cheek. John smiled back.

"That's a better reaction than I got before when I made a reference" John commented.

"Why, what happened?" Greg asked making both of the boys of the floor jump slightly. They had forgotton he was there.

"Oh, I just kinda got" john cleared his throat awkwardly "pushed over my suitcase a bit."

"By who?" asked Greg

Sherlock suddenly spoke up "Really Graham, I'm sure even you could figure that one out."

"Greg!" Greg said annoyed

Sherlock shrugged. "Donovan and Anderson, correct?" sherlock asked John, who only gave a small nod in return. "Thought as much, why else would they have been talking to you earlier." The question was rhetorical, but John scratched the back of his neck suddenly not making eye contact.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he noticed the behavior change in John. "Is this about them calling me a freak, if so I already know" Sherlock said plainly

"How did you-" John was cut off

"I overheard you while I was going into my room. It's okay if you think the same thin-"

"No" It was johns turn to cut sherlock off this time. "no, I don't." John said stubbornly. "I don't think you're a freak."

Sherlock looked up and met Johns eyes, as John slowly dropped his hand from Sherlocks cheek, and his voice began to go quieter. "And its not okay that people say that to you, or that you think its okay for them to say that to you." John finished, still looking Sherlock in the eyes.

They stayed like that until they heard an uncomfortable cough come from the direction of the bed.

John looked away awkwardly and Sherlock cleared his throat.

***

"Do you think you can stand up, y'know, without falling over this time." John said jokingly

"Worth a try" Sherlock said as he started to stand up, but quickly let out a wince and sat down again.

'Damn it!' he thought, he didn't mean to do that.

"That doesn't sound good, Sherlock. You might have a broken rib." Greg stated and received a glare in return.

"I'm fine!" Sherlock insisted "nothing's broken"

"Maybe not broken, but you're in pain and that needs to be fixed!" Greg said with an irritated voice.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked to the floor.

"Sherlock" John said strongly "are you in pain, yes or no." John quite obviously knew the answer was yes, but he wanted Sherlock to realize for himself.

"Yes" Sherlock said quietly.

Sherlock noticed that John was trying his best not to laugh, but with him probably looking like a defeated five year old, he understood how that could have been hard to do.

John started to pull out a long, wide, white, rap-around bandage from his med kit. "Before I rap this around you, I just need to double check that nothing is broken, alright." John said, not actually asking Sherlock and more telling him what was to happen.

"Fine" Sherlock begrudgingly agreed and then just sat there.

"You do realize you will need to take off your shirt for this." John asked

"Oh, right" Sherlock said as looked at Greg before titling his head towards the door.

"Wait, reall-"

"Just wait outside" Sherlock snapped at Greg.

Greg slowly got off the bed, still completely baffled as to what was happening. "I guess I'll just wait outside then." Greg said with a small smile directed at John and a wink at Sherlock, as he walked out of the room.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. _'honestly'_.

Sherlock wasn't really comfortable with even just one person seeing his naked torso, but seeing as that one person was training to be a doctor and already seemed to know more than the school nurse. He decided to make an exception.

***

"I think it would be best if you sat on the bed, then when I have to rap the bandage around your ribs, it'll be easier." John instructed

"I can't stand properly, though." Sherlock stated as he looked up at the, now standing, John.

"Oh right, here" John bobbed down and put Sherlocks arm over his shoulders and slowly started to rise again.

"Thank you" Sherlock mumbled as he tried to stand again.

Once Sherlock was finally standing, John helped him over to sit on the bed.

"Okay" John said casually "Shirt off"

As Sherlock was unbuttoning his shirt and it opened up more, John was able to see all of the bruises forming over his chest. Once Sherlocks shirt was completely off, John was also able to see how skinny the younger boy was.

"Now, I'm just going to press over the top of your ribs, if it hurts just tell me okay." John told Sherlock

When John first pressed one of his hands over Sherlocks ribs, the raven haired boy flinched back.

"It's alright Sherlock" Reassured John in a calming tone "I'll try my best not to hurt you and if I do just say so and I'll stop."

"But, the doctor lies?" Sherlock said quietly as he looked up at John.

"Not this time, I promise." John felt sorry for Sherlock.

 _'He must have to deal with this crap all the time._ ' He thought, as Sherlock finally let him check his ribs.

***

**5 or so minutes later**

"Ouch" Sherlock said as he hissed in pain.

"Don't worry, I'm done now." John told Sherlock "nothing's broken, so I can rap the bandage around your torso and you can be on your way." John smiled as he reached for the white rap. "You should be able to take it off tomorrow."

***

When John was finished putting the rap around Sherlock, he helped him to stand up. Sherlock seemed like he was okay to stand by himself again, so he just let him do it.

As sherlock was standing up he said quietly, sound slightly unsure of himself "Thank you, John."

"That's fine, I like helping people and this was good for my practicing to b-"

John was promptly cut off by sherlock.

"No John" Sherlock started "thank you for not calling me a freak, and saying that i'm not one. That doesn't happen."

"Oh" John said, slightly surprised "you're welcome, Sherlock" John said as he handed Sherlock his shirt with a small, slightly sad, smile.


	7. Got a girlfriend then?

As Sherlock put his shirt back on, Greg opened the door wide enough so he could be heard, but not wide enough so he could see in.

"Hey, I'm just gonna go back to my room and finish my unpacking." He paused for a moment. "Sherlock, you'll be alright in there won't you?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John, sighed and answered quite sarcastically "Yes, I think I should be able to cope without you for half an hour or so, graham."

"Yea, okay" Greg mumbled as he shut the door and walked away.

**Johns POV:**

After Greg had walked off, I attempted small talk.

"So, do you have any siblings or anything?" I questioned

"Ugh"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything" I said quickly

Sherlock grimaced "No, it's fine." He ran a hand through his hair. "Im just not very close with my brother." sherlock added as he started to wonder around my room.

"Oh, right" I sat down on the side of my bed and then waited for Sherlock to ask the same question. We he didn't ask, I decided to. "So you're not gonna ask me then?"

He answered simply "no." Sherlock started walking back towards me on the bed, but instead sat in the middle of the room. "When you first asked how I knew you wanted to be a doctor, I also told you I knew most of your other history and you're wondering why I'm not asking if you have an older sister, who clearly has moved out of your parents house recently with you and now lives with her boyfriend."

I slid of the bed and sat crossed legged infront of him. "Right." I paused "Do you have a girlfriend or anything?" I asked carefully

"Really?" he asked sounding a mixture between bored and surprised.

"What?"

"I just told you, you have an older sister who has moved out of your parents house and lives with her boyfriend and you're asking me if I'm in a relationship?"

"Fine" I stated "how'd you do it?"

"Well" the curly haired boy smirked "since you asked." I couldn't help, but to let out a small giggle.

"I know you have an older sister, because when I first arrived I saw you hugging a woman goodbye. I could tell very easily that they where older because she looks older and was also driving the car. She was too young to be your mother, even if it was a teenage pregnancy, so sister it is. I can tell just by looking at your face that you have been sleeping on a different bed than you are use to, but obviously not a couch-"

I stopped him for a second "sorry, obviously? How is that obvious!"

"Well if you let me finish, I would be able to tell you" he said looking at me rather intensly and then continued. "I can tell that you have been sleeping on a bed and not a couch, because based on the lack of rubbing your neck and your posture, it's a bed you've been sleeping on. Sleeping on a couch more often than not, gives people neck trouble and you don't seem to be experiencing any pain. I know it's a new bed, because of the patterns on your cheek cause by a different pillow and or mattress. I also know that you have moved in with your sister and her partner, because you are not old enough to live on your own just yet and that your sister is living with her partner because, no disrespect, but you two clearly don't have enough money to buy your own flat, let alone come to this school." He finally paused to take a breath.

"That...was...amazing!"

"Really?" Sherlock asked, almost sounding as amazed as I was.

"Yea, that was even better than the deduction, or whatever you call them, from before." I paused

"What?" he questioned "what did I get wrong?"

"How did you know that I was gonna say -" I stopped talking when Sherlock started giving me a 'don't be stupid look' "you just got one thing wrong"

"What?" He asked strongly

"I wasn't living with my sister and her boyfriend, I was living with my sister and her girlfriend."

"Damn!" he suddenly exclaimed "there's always one!"

"Well, it was still very impressive"

"Oh, and-" Sherlock added "no, I don't have a girlfriend." He said smiling at me through his eyelashes. "not really my area."

"Oh" I paused a moment "oh, right - so boyfriend then, is that who Greg is"

"Umm" Sherlock paused

"Which is fine, by the way" I added quickly

"I know it's fine"

"Right, good" I smiled at him "so Greg's your boyfriend then?"

"No" he said almost defensively

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Okay, so you're single like me, good." He smiled at me and I smiled back.

"Well" he said as he stood up "I best be going now, need to finish up unpacking"

I stood up aswell and opened the door for him. "Think you can make it to your room without getting beaten up on your way" I said jokingly

Sherlock smiled as he walked out of the door. "I think I can manage a few meters, thank you" he said chuckling.

"Wait, are you in the room next door?"

"It would appear so, yes" he replied smirking "see you soon, John"

"Seeya" I smiled as I closed the door.

Once I shut the door, I lent against it, slowly laying my head against the door and shutting my eyes, before walking back over to the couch to continue reading.


	8. The cactus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The use of the word football is used in the English term (round black and white ball)

**Johns POV:**

I must have fallen asleep at some point while reading my book, because when I woke up it was around two o'clock in the morning. As I moved off of the couch and started to get changed into my pyjamas, I could hear a violin playing in the room over.

I slipped into my bed and pulled up the covers, letting the music lull me to sleep.

**3rd person - 9 hours later:**

By the time John finally rolled out of bed, it was 11:23 am and the music coming from Sherlocks room had stopped. John begrudgingly got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to have a shower and wash his hair.

After he had been standing under the warm refreshing water of the shower for over ten minutes, he decided that it would probably be best to get out, before he started to look completely like a prune. When he stepped out , the cold air suddenly hit him and he wished that he could have just stayed in the shower for eternity.

In his old house, he was never able to stay in the shower for that long, either because of his sister next wanting to use it or because of fear of his dad. probably a bit of both.

By the time John was dry and dressed in jeans, white sneakers and a black and white striped jumper, he brushed his teeth. He decided to go down to the main dining hall to get a cup of tea and maybe some toast.

**Johns POV:**

As I was about to walk out of the door to go to the dining room, I quickly ruffled up my hair in the mirror. It was still a bit damp from the shower, but at least it looked decent now.

I finally walked out my room roughly 15 minutes later after quickly fixing up my hair and walked down the four flights of stairs. _'Second floor my ass.'_

I walked out of the boys dorm room and started to make my way over to the dining hall that sits right next to the main building. The main building and the dining hall where around a five minute walk away from the dorm rooms. The two dorms were placed next to each other, side to side and wall to wall, but they didn't connect. This meant if you wanted to go to the girls dorm on the right, you had to walk out onto the main pathway, were everybody previously got dropped off, were there are large lamps lighting the entire path. Making it hard for anybody to cross from one dorm to the other after curfew. Also the locks and alarms on the doors helped.

Behind and to the left of the boys dorm room and about 400 Meters away, sat the main building next to the dining hall.

I wasn't that hungry and really only wanted a cup of tea, so I was only dawdling towards the dining hall.

As I was walking up the five steps to the entrance of the dining hall, I couldn't believe how big it was. In front of me sat two very large, dark wood doors. When I walked in, there was a small room and on the right wall was one door labels 'self serve kitchen' and the larger door next to it was labeled 'dining hall'.

I walked through the kitchen door and came across a turnstile at the end of the small hallway leading to the kitchen. A few students were lined up in front of me to pass through, even though it was way passed breakfast.

I wasn't quite sure how to get through, until I noticed that the students in front of me where scanning their ID card.

When I finally made it through, I picked up two pieces of toast, spread jam onto it and made a cup of tea. After I was finished making, or shall I say, collecting breakfast, I walked out the other side of the kitchen and through two large open doors.

"Christ, it's like living in Hogwarts" I said under my breath

The dining room was gigantic, it has a small stage area up the front, that sat a main table where the teachers ate at and next to it sat a podium - presumably this is also where the school held meetings. On the floor there was a fireplace on the back wall and had about 40 medium sized rectangular tables, each being able to fit around ten to twenty students on them. All of the walls had large pictures on them and I half expected them to start talking at any second.

Presently there weren't very many people in the dining hall, so I walked into the dining room properly and sat down at one of the end of the shorter tables.

Not too long after I had started eating, I saw Sherlock stumble through the kitchen door and lifted my head.

"Hey Sherly!" I heard a voice yell "come back here, you fag!" Instantly my fists clenched just from hearing that word.

"Anderson, just leave me be" Sherlock stated "at least let me eat my biscuit first!" As Sherlock said this I could finally see Anderson coming out of the kitchen. I knew he didn't like Sherlock much, but this just wasn't called for, no matter what Sherlock had done.

"Freak!" He yelled "you don't even eat!" Anderson shoved Sherlock into one of the tables. "What, you anorexic or something, you gay faggot!" He then proceeded to punch him in the ribs, causing Sherlock to crumple to the floor.

"OKAY!" I stood up and ran over in front of Sherlock, shielding him from any more possible attacks, I couldn't just sit there and watch Sherlock be pummeled into the ground and do nothing to defend himself.

"Listen here Anderson, you have no idea of the crap that he could be going through!" I yelled "If you're going to hurt anyone, hurt me!"

"What, you?!" Anderson chuckled "I warned you about him yesterday, told you he was a freak!"

"Even if he was, which he IS NOT! It doesn't mean you can just beat the living shit out of him!" I clenched my fists at my side and could tell that Sherlock was now standing behind me.

"John, don't" I heard him mumble. I ignored him.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, he will hurt you as well" Sherlock mumbled more sternly this time and I could feel his hot breath on the side of my neck, but I couldn't just let Anderson get away with this.

"I don't care if he hurts me Sherlock!" I said equally as stern.

"What the hell did he ever do to you" I directed at Anderson.

"Well for starters, he's a freak" Anderson said plainly

"That's not a reason"

"Okay if that's not a good enough reason for you, he's also a faggot! Likes guys!"

"You know what Anderson" I paused making my voice as intimidating as I could "I have met a lot of pricks in my time, but you are the fucking cactus!" and with that statement I punched him in the face and Sherlock quickly dragged me out the doors of the hall.

**Sherlocks POV:**

As soon as John punched Anderson, I watched as the rat like boy stumble back and promptly decided that now would be a good time to disappear. I quickly grabbed Johns hand and dragged him out of the hall as fast as possible.

As much as I was amused by Johns comeback and that Anderson finally got a solid punch in the face, now was not the time.

Almost as soon as I had dragged John out of the hall and he had realised what happened. He started running next to me, not being dragged behind me. I heard footsteps running behind us.

"Quick, this way" I said to John as I pulled him in another direction, in front and around the side of the main building where classes are held.

From what I could hear and based on the heaviness of the footsteps barrelling, not too far away might I add, behind us. It was easy to deduce that some of the other football players where in the hall when Anderson was punched and he had called for back up to chase us down. Morons.

I pulled John in the direction of the relatively large, much like anything else at this school, group of trees. They sat briefly within the school grounds, not too far away from the left of the main building.

"Sherlock" John breathed while we ran "Where the hell are we going?"

"There" I nodded towards the group of trees, we were now only about 52 metres away from.

"Why?"

"So we can escape Anderson and his thugs, obviously"

We finally made it into the small forest. I stopped and looked around for a second trying to find a good tree that we wouldn't be noticed in and suddenly became aware that I was still holding Johns hand.

I could hear some of the football players starting to catch up with us, just as I found the perfect tree.

I quickly escalated it and offered a hand down to John to help him up. "I suggest if you want to finish high school, that you hurry up and climb this tree before you get hospitalised for the remainder of your life."

"Is the tree really necessary?" John questioned

"John, they are football players, big footballers, angry footballers! They will beat the living shit out of you"

"Hey! I'm a football player too!" John replied and I just gave him a very stern look.

The sandy haired boy let out a defeated huff. "Fine, But I can't climb very well" John gestured to his left shoulder "Shoulders a bit rubbish"

"Yea, I know, that's why I'm offering you my hand to help you up." John let out huff and let me assist him climb the tree. "quickly I can hear them whispering." I finally managed to pull John onto the same branch I was on, just moments before Anderson's thugs walked below the tree.

"I could have sworn they came this way" One of the players told Anderson, who already had a black eye forming.

"Well then keep looking!" Hissed Anderson

I started to look around, while perched on the branch, John now clinging onto me around my waist and arm, seemingly afraid of falling. I reached an arm up and as quietly as possible snapped off a small, thick branch.

"What are you-" I cut off Johns whisper by putting my finger over his lips, signalling him to shut up.

I threw the twig a fair distance away, deeper into the group of trees.

"Over there!" I heard Anderson eagerly tell his team mates. With only about 6 brain cells shares between the three of them, they ran off in the direction of the twig.

"Morons" I mumbled, making John quietly giggle and almost causing him to fall off the branch.

After a few minutes, I looked around and decided that it was safe to climb down the tree. "We should be clear now, John"

"Good" John breathed out a sigh relief. "So why aren't we climbing down"

"I'm sure even you can figure that one out John" I said as I looked down at one of his hand clutching at my black shirt and his other hand holding onto my right arm.

"Oh" John cleared his throat awkwardly "sorry." John released his grip on me and started to wobble off the branch.

I quickly reached out and grabbed hold of him, attempting to stabilise him, whilst losing my balance at the same time. I leaned back trying to grab hold of the nearest branch, causing John to fall back further, pushing us both off of the branch.

John landed on top of me, both of us falling with a loud thud, chest to chest.

"Ouch" I moaned. Before for the two of us broke into a fit of laughter. I was able to gain my composure rather quickly though.

"John, would you mind rolling off of me, please"

"Sure" John laughed

"What?" I said trying not to smile, and failing.

"Nothing" John said between giggles "I've just never punched someone in the face, been chased up a tree, fallen out and landed on top of a guy I met yesterday before!"

"Mmm, and I have never seen anyone stand up to Anderson before, let alone defend me and bandage me up."

"I'm sure someone's helped you before?" John questioned in disbelief and I rolled onto my right side to face him.

"Nope" I said popping the P "well, apart from Greg and Mycroft, but they never see it while its happening, they only ever fix me up afterwards."

"Sorry, Mycroft?" John also rolled onto his side to face me.

"I mentioned I had a brother yesterday, did I not?"

"Oh right, you just never said his name"

"He's in the extra year they offer here for speciality students. It's so they can go off to more extravagant universities without paying too much after attending high school." I explained "but that's enough about Mycroft, don't you think"

"Can I just ask one question though?"

"Sure"

"Why do you not like your brother?"

"He's the favourite, straight A student, wants to work for the government like farther" I let out a sigh "The usual. The rest of my family are fairly boring though. Well, apart from Redbeard"

"Who's Redbeard?"

"My dog"

**Johns POV:**

As soon as Sherlock started to talk about his dog, his whole face lifted.

"Redbeard is my best friend" He said with a small smile. "That's mostly why I hate coming to this school. When I go, I have to leave him behind." He paused for a moment and cleared his throat. Putting his shields up again seemingly hiding any emotion, much like yesterday when he was in pain and trying to hide it.

I shuffled onto my feet and offered down a hand to help him up. "come on then"

"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked curiously as I pulled him off of the ground.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think it would be a lot more comfortable to sit in a chair or something, than to lie on broken twigs and dried leaves"

"Sit in a chair or something? What do you mean by something, John?" Sherlock asked jokingly, raising an eyebrow

I chuckled and started to walk towards the dorms. "shut up"

"Are you seducing me, Mr Watson" Sherlock laughed as he trailed behind me.

"Very funny" I said sarcastically as Sherlock caught up and started walking next to me.

He smirked "I noticed how you never denied it."

"No, I am not seducing you" I chuckled "you would know if I were seducing you" I playfully elbowed him in the side

"Ouch"

"OH SHIT! Sorry I forgot, are you alright!" I paused "Why are you laughing"

"I'm fine John, even when you fixed me up yesterday I told you I was okay. Trust me, I'm fine" Sherlock said with a reassuring smile and elbowing me in return.

"Go on then?" Sherlock smirked as we opened the dorms main doorway "How would I know if you were seducing me?"

"I would turn on the charm."

"Oh, brilliant plan that is" Sherlock chuckled as we walked up the stairs "so tell me John, what is this Charm"

"I'm not giving away my secret seducing powers, you'll have to find out" I stated before realising what I had just said.

"I'll have to find out will I?"

I giggled as I opened my dorm room and let us both in. "Oh, shut up!"


	9. The nightmare

**Johns POV:**

Once Sherlock and I stepped into my room we sat on the ground and started talking about nothing for the rest of the day and deep into the night.

**2 am**

"Alright" I yawned "I'll be back in a second, just going to make a cuppa, want one?"

"Sure." Sherlock said stretching and leaning against my bed. "no milk, two sugars"

"Right" I started to quietly open the door, until -

"John"

I turned around and whispered in return "Yea, Sherlock?"

"Before you walk all the way to the dining hall, I feel like I should inform you that there is a miniature kitchen on the opposite wall of the stairs. When you go in you should be able to find cups and a container of tea in the cupboard, along with a kettle."

"Thanks" I walked out of my dorm room, carefully shutting the door and walked down the flights of stairs.

Sure enough on the left wall there was a door that lead to a smaller kitchen. _'How did I never noticed that there was a door there before._ ' I walked in and was greeted by a medium kitchen covered with a cream coloured tiled floor and wood panelled walls. There were benches, some with draws lining the wall opposite to where I was standing. Next to the sink sat a power plug, a kettle and a microwave. While on the left wall there was a small, built in, white cupboard. The shelves of said cupboard were filled with jars containing assortments of biscuits, sugar, tea and coffee.

I pulled out two cups and two spoons after opening almost every draw in the kitchen to find them and started making the tea.

Once the tea making process was complete, I walked back up the stairs very carefully, not wanting to spill the cups and opened the door to my dorm room.

I walked in slowly and placed the cups on my bedside table before noticing that Sherlock was fast asleep, leaning against my bed.

I walked up to him. There was no way I was just going to leave him on the floor in that uncomfortable position. Although, I also wasn't planing to wake him up any time soon.

With him in this state I was able to get a good look at him and noticed that he had dark rings underneath both of his eyes. I definitely wasn't going to wake him up now and decided that there was only one thing to do. ' _He looks thin, so he can't be that heavy.'_

I crouched down next to him and slid my arms underneath him and very slowly and carefully picked him up. He was a lot lighter than I first thought. I walked him over to the couch on the other side of the large room and laid him down. Then I walked over to the closet and picked out a spare blanket, one of my jumpers and also my pyjamas. I placed the blanket over him and then rolled up the jumper to place under his head in substitution for a pillow.

I went into the bathroom, got changed and walked over to my bed. Once I slid into the sheets, I decided to drink my, now lukewarm, tea.

 _'Surely being that skinny isn't healthy. Earlier before he hit Sherlock, I did hear Anderson say that he never ate. Although he also called him a freak, so it's probably not very true. Tomorrow I'm definitely going to make sure he eats breakfast, without some twat calling him names and punching him.'_ That was my last thought before I drifted off into sleep.

 

**5:30 am**

I woke up to the sound of thrashing and mumbling. I slowly opened my eyes and look over to where the sound was coming from on my right. When I opened my eyes completely and the morning blur went away, I saw Sherlock squirming on the couch in distress. I quickly got out of bed and went over to where Sherlock was. His eyes where squeezed tightly shut and he was starting to mumble louder and clearer, things like 'no' and 'Please, just leave me alone' were the most common ones.

He was kicking his legs frantically and had already thrown off the spare blanket. He had also stopped using my jumper as a pillow and was holding it so tight against his chest, it looked like the world was about to end.

"No!" Sherlock almost yelled

At first I wasn't going to touch him or attempt to wake him because, although it wasn't sleepwalking, I knew that it could be dangerous for him. I continued thinking that until a tear rolled down his cheek. He was now officially crying.

"Sherlock" I whispered as I crouched next to him on the couch. "Shh, shhh, it's okay" I said as I stroked his hair. "You're okay, you're safe, you'll be okay"

Sherlock was crying more now, but had slowed down with his thrashing. "Shhh, Shhh" I picked up his head and sat down in its place, before laying his head in my lap.

"No, don't hurt me again, no!" Sherlock sobbed

"It's okay, Sherlock, it's okay. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you" I placed my hand on the side of his face and spread my thumb across his cheek, wiping away any tears in its path. Sherlocks eyes slowly opened as I did so, just before he let out another sob.

"John" His voice sounded broken

"Yeah Sherlock, I'm right here" I whispered down to him as I ran my thumb over his cheek again.

He turned around so he was now sitting in my lap, wrapped his arms around my torso and started to cry into my shoulder.

I hugged him back and as he cried, I drew nonsense patterns into his back with my fingers. "It's okay, It's okay" I whispered into his hair "I'm not ever going to let someone hurt you again"

In return I got a mumbled "thank you" into my shoulder before he continued to cry.

Eventually the crying started to subside and was replaced with I'm so sorry's

"What are you sorry about?" I asked him gently, still rubbing his back.

Sherlock whispered into my shoulder "That I'm such a freak"

"No!" I said abruptly. I took him away from my shoulder, so I could look into his eyes and he just looked down.

I placed my hands on his cheek bones and lifted up his face, making him look me in the eyes. They were red and swollen and his cheeks were blotchy from crying so much. He looked into my eyes and even in the darkness of the room, they were a sparkling blue, but at the moment they looked so broken. Like shattered glass.

"Listen to me" I said quietly as another tear rolled down Sherlocks cheek. "You are not a freak"

"No, I a-" Sherlock attempted to protest, but I shut him up.

"No Sherlock, don't protest, don't even fight me with this." I said with a sad chuckle "I so far have known you for only about -"

"Two days, eleven hours" Sherlock sniffed

"Yea" I said with a small smile "And you are already the closest friend that I have ever had and you are by far the nicest. You are in no way a freak" with that Sherlock hugged me so tight, that I thought that I would burst.

"Now" I started quietly "what was your nightmare about?"

Sherlock shook his head into my shoulder

"You can tell me ya'know, I won't tell anyone"

He shook his head again.

"That's okay, you don't have to tell me, but if its about those idiots who bully you, I should tell you that I went through the exact same thing."

"Obviously" Sherlock mumbled into my shoulder

"I should have known that you would know, but I'm going to tell you anyway" I felt Sherlock smile into my shoulder

"Back at my two previous schools, that weren't boarding schools, I got bullied a lot." I paused for a second and then decided to continue "When I was in year 7 I came out as Bi to my friends and I lost all of them and I was bullied for the rest of the year. Then when I went to high school I thought I would finally have a new start. I met more friends and I trusted them, so when I was in year 9, I decided that it would be a good time to come out again. They were worse than the first lot. By the time year 10 came around I had no friends and only had my older sister, Harry, to talk to." My voice broke at the end of the sentence, but I cleared my throat and continued anyway. "One night when my farther was really drunk and just yelling abuse at both of us, I went onto my laptop and found this place. I just wanted to get out of there. Of course, as you deduce earlier, I didn't have enough money to come here. Luckily I was able to get in on a football scholarship and even more luckily I was able to meet you." I concluded as a single tear rolled down my cheek.

"How did you know that I wasn't going to leave you for being bisexual, like everyone else?" Sherlock finally questioned after a long moment of silence. He was now looking at me with big sad eyes.

"I didn't" I said simply as I looked down. "But seeing as you didn't punch me as soon as I said I was Bi, like everyone else did" More tears started to roll down my cheeks "I figured it was safe to tell you"

"John" Sherlock said, still with a broken voice "please don't cry, I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm sorry"

"You didn't make me cry, Sherlock" I said as I wiped away the few tears on my cheeks. "it's okay"

"No, it's not John. People are idiots."

I chuckled sadly "people are idiots aren't they" I paused thinking for a second "You already figured out I was Bi, didn't you"

"From the moment I met you" Sherlock said while putting his left cheek in the crook of my neck so he was still looking at me.

"So now that you know that I'm Bi, or at least now that I've told you, are you going to tell me your dream?"

"The football team was beating me up again, which they do often, but then they started to go after Redbeard" Sherlock said this so fast that I almost missed what he said. But his voice, itself, was sad and full of dread.

"Ah" I nodded. I knew that Redbeard was Sherlocks best friend and from what he told me about his family, it seems like Redbeard is the only, to Sherlocks standards, non boring one.

Sherlock started to choke up "And then to stop them from hurting Redbeard, I-" He was about to start crying again so I intervened. I didn't like to see him this upset.

"Shh, shhh. You don't have to tell me, it's okay, you've said enough" I hugged Sherlock tight and he rested his head into my chest.

After a few minutes, I shifted my legs to the right and in one swift movement, moved them onto the couch and then slid down the couch a bit.

"Is that a bit better?" I questioned Sherlock, who responded by snuggling deeper into my chest. "I'll take that as a yes then, shall I?"

"Mmm, perfect" Sherlock mumbled and smiled into my chest.

I chuckled and wrapped my arms around his back. "Would you mind reaching down to grab the blanket?"

"Oh, sure" Sherlock mumbled as he reached down to the floor.

"Thanks" I took the blanket from him and spread it over us both.

About ten minutes later when I was starting to drift off, I thought I heard Sherlock say my name.

"John?"

"Mm, yea, sorry, what?" I said, sleep still clouding over my brain.

"When I awoke from my nightmare, I found myself lying on this couch, cradling your jumper, with my head in your lap"

"Yes..?"

"When you left to get tea, before you got back,I fell asleep and I was resting against your bedside."

I stayed silent, mainly because I was still trying to get my brain to work.

"If I fell asleep against your bed, then how did I end up on the couch, with a blanket and your jumper, while resting in your lap?"

"When I came up with the tea, I found you in what looked like an uncomfortable position. So I decided to pick you up and move you over to the couch and I noticed while I was carrying you that you had dark circles under your eyes, so I thought i better let you sleep." I paused to think for a second then continued "Then I thought you might get cold so I went to the cupboard to get one of my spare blankets and while I was there, I grabbed a jumper that you could use as a pillow. Then I got changed and went to sleep. At around 5:30 in the morning I heard you thrashing about and talking in your sleep, so I walked over to you and you started crying in your sleep, so I decided to sit on the couch, put your head in my lap and stroke your hair to calm you down. Not too long after, you woke up and started to cry into my chest."

Sherlock was silent for a moment before he turned onto his stomach and rested on his forearms on my chest, looking at me straight in the eyes. "You did that for me?" He asked quietly

"Yes" I said equally as quiet "yes, of course I did. You- You're my best friend" I said stuttering slightly. I wasn't sure if calling a person, who I had only known for two days, my best friend was socially acceptable or not. I hadn't had a friend, other than my sister in years, sure I'd had girlfriends, but they didn't count. Therefore, he was in fact, my best friend.

He stared and blinked at me a few times, opening his mouth occasionally, but having no words come out.

"Sherlock?" I questioned "are you okay?"

"I-I'm your b-best friend?" He stuttered

"Yes, of course you are"

He was silent for a moment and leaned down to rest his head on my chest. So I decided to shut my eyes again.

"Thank you" I heard him whisper as he started to turn on his side so he was more comfortable. While he was moving, I felt something softly brush against my cheek. _'Probably just his hair'_

Within minutes we were both asleep again.


	10. Eyes open

**11:26am, Johns POV:**

Before I opened my eyes when I awoke I could feel something warm in front of me, pressed up against my chest and something soft just underneath my nose. Still being in the morning grogginess I had to open my eyes to realise what, or rather, who, it was.

When my eyes were fully open I looked down and saw that I had a mop of dark brown/black curls in my face.

"Oh, right" I said under my breath. I had completely forgotten that I had helped Sherlock get to sleep after his nightmare and we must have shifted positions during the night. I was now laying on my left side with my back pressed up against the back of the couch and I had Sherlocks face buried underneath my chin. His arms clung tight against my waist, pulling our chests flush against each other and we had our legs tangled together. I had my face in his birds nest of hair, with my right arm slung over his waist and had my left arm being used as a cushion for myself and Sherlock.

 _'Damn'_ Now was not a good time to need to pee.

I very slowly tried to move out of his grasp, but it only caused him to bury himself into me more.

"Sherlock" I mumbled quietly into his hair "Sherlock."

He nuzzled his head into my chest "mmm?"

"As comfortable as I am, I need to get up"

"Why?" I heard say into my chest

"I need to pee"

"Ahh, fine" He said exasperatedly and detangled himself from me.

"Thanks" I said as I sat myself up onto my elbow, trying to figure out the easiest way to get to the bathroom, without having to awkwardly scramble over him. Otherwise known as plan B.

I looked down and saw him smirk to himself, still with his eyes shut. "What's the plan, John?" He asked teasingly, obviously having already figured out my conundrum.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to move?" I asked hopefully, but fully knowing what the answer would be.

He opened his eyes, just to give me a 'don't be stupid' look, before promptly shutting them again.

"Yep, that's what I thought." I said under my breath. "Plan B it is."

"What's pla-" before Sherlock could finish his question, I stared to climb over and off of him, slightly squishing him in the process. When I was finally off the couch, he started speaking again.

"You couldn't find a less painful way to climb off the couch?" he said as he turned to face me.

"Well, I gave you the option to sit up, but you chose the latter." I stated smiling, as I picked up a fresh towel and went into the bathroom.

 

**Sherlock POV:**

 

Not to long after John went into the bathroom and I heard the shower start, there was a knock at the door.

"Would you mind getting that, please?" I heard a muffled shout come from underneath the running water.

I slid off the couch and made my way over to the door, not bothering to check my hair in the small mirror on the wall.

I started opening the door. "Hello?"

"Haha, wow. Hello to you to, get lucky did we?"

I let out a huff "Graham, what are you doing here?"

He let out another laugh "its Greg and I could ask you the same thing"

"I simply came over to say hello"

"What?" he chuckled and gestured to my, now crumpled, clothes. "in that!"

"Yes" I stated plainly

"Without your shoes or socks and with you hair looking like you just rolled out of bed?"

"I simply stayed the night with my new friend" I sighed

"Right... and were is John anyway?" He asked looking into the room

"He's in the shower"

Gavin smiled and gave me a look "Well then, when he's done, give me a shout alright" he said as he turned to walk back to his room.

"Why?"

"Me and some of the blokes wonna start a footy game and we need one more. Seems like a nice guy, fixed you up didn't he?" he started walking away again and then spoke over his shoulder "just tell 'im, would ya?" He gave me a wink and then continued walking.

I shut the door and turned around, only to see John coming out of the bathroom. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and had another small towel in his hand tousling his damp hair that was dripping onto his naked torso.

"Who was that then?" John asked walking up to me

I blinked a few times "uh" and stuttered. "S-sorry, what?"

'Why am I stuttering, I never stutter!'

"I asked who was at the door" John chuckled and moved over to his wardrobe to get out some fresh clothes

"Oh, umm" I cleared my throat "Gavin"

John looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. "You mean Greg?"

"Yea..." I ran my hand through my hair awkwardly as I saw John pulling on a pair of shortish boxer brief, red pants underneath his towel. I promptly turned to face the wall behind the couch.

"What did he have to say?"

"He and some of his friends would like you to join them in a game of football."

"Oh, good!" John exclaimed. I heard more rustling from behind me and deduced that John was changing into more suitable clothes for the sport.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around.

"How do I look?" John questioned stepping back and moving his arms out to the side to display himself. He was wearing a blue football training top with a large white number two on the front. He was also wearing black shorts.

I paused looking him up and down and trying not to let my mouth open in the process. "Great"

He smiled up at me "Wonna come along?"

"No" I stated plainly.

"Oh" he sounded disappointed "Okay then"

"I just don't like sports very much" I don't know why I felt the need to give him an explanation of why I turned the offer down.

"That's fine" he said with another smile "Mind showing me to Gregs room?"

"Sure" I said as I started opening the door again.

"Don't you want to-" he trailed off looking down to my feet.

"Ahh, yes" I sat down on the couch and pulled my socks and my red converse on.


	11. The game is on

**Johns POV:**

 

After Sherlock showed me to Gregs room and promptly walked off to do whatever it is he does, I knocked on the door.

"Come in"

As I opened the door I was relieved to see that Greg was wearing the same thing I was, he looked up from tying his shoe.

"Hey John, ah you made it onto the footy team I see."

He stood up and gestured for me to follow him out the door.

"Yea, it's how I actually got into the school. Wouldn't be here otherwise" I replied, following him down the stairs.

"Well, I'm glad you got in on a football scholarship"

"Yea, so am -"

"No, I mean this way I don't have to teach you the rules" Greg said sarcastically, lightly chuckling.

"Not your division, huh" I laughed

"No, s'pose not"

As we started walking out of the dorms, I was struggling to remember where the oval was. I decided to ask "Where are we playing anyway"

"Oh right, I forgot wouldn't know. There's two stands and football field not too far behind the main building and close to the forest. Big oval, big, big oval." Greg explained and I nodded in return.

***

As we approached the oval, I could see that some of the guys were already there.

As we got a bit closer, Greg yelled to them. "Okay blokes, listen up, this is John, say hello he's new."

I gave a small awkward wave as the other boys walked over and I offered out my hand to the group to really anyone who would take it. "Hey, it's nice to meet you, I'm J-"

"So, you're a footballer too then. Abandoned the freak, did we?" A voice snickered

Anderson

I abruptly put my hand down by my side, not letting him near it. "He's not a freak" I said sternly, suddenly becoming very defensive.

The rest of the team, excluding Greg, started to laugh.

"Don't be like that John" Anderson said with an icy smile "What did I ever do to you?"

"Are you joking! On my first day, once I walked up the stairs, you pushed me over my bags and called my best friend a freak!"

This caused the team to laugh once again.

"Well, I'm sorry if I mistakenly bumped into you and pushed you over John" He said coldly, fully knowing that he pushed me. "and you've known the freak, what, four days! He doesn't even have friends, how could he have a best friend."

"Because he told me I was" I started to talk really low as an attempt to contain my anger "and he has friends, I know, he may not count people as friends, but whether he likes it or not, he does have them!"

Anderson let out another laugh making me clench my fists. "Did he actually call you his best friend?!"

I thought back to the night before and the more I thought, the more I realised that I said he was my best friend and he said thank you. I decided to change the topic.

"What did he ever do to you?" I questioned "to any of you, what could he possibly do to make you all hate him so much?!"

"He's a freak!" one of the blonde guys at the back said "he knew my dad left when I was 10!"

More of the team started to speak up

"He told my girlfriend I was cheating on her!"

"He told my teacher I cheated on an exam!"

"My dad found out I smoke because of him, I had the shit beaten out of me!"

"He told my brother I stole his money! What type of prick does that!"

I cleared my throat "okay, OKAY! EVERYONE SHUT UP!" I yelled to control the outburst of complaints. "That's no excuse for beating the crap out of him every day!"

"We don't do that!" another boy yelled

"Anderson?" Greg questioned

"Not everyday!" Anderson replied, sounding exasperated. "He asks for it"

"Just yesterday you pushed him into a table for eating a biscuit!" I yelled

"Alright every one calm down!" Greg yelled in return "we came here to play football, not bicker - everyone dribble a ball, calm down, shut up and start warming up!"

Amazingly, everyone did just that. After everyone calmed down after we had warmed up a bit, we started running laps, I started talking to Greg.

"So, are you the coach then" I asked as we were finishing the last lap.

"Yea, how did you figure" he answered slightly breathlessly

"Well to start, you told everyone to shut up and they listened."

Greg let out a small laugh

"I forgot to ask, what grade are you in?" I asked when we finally finished running and went to grab a drink.

"Twelve actually. You're in the same year as Sherlock right, year 11?"

"Yea, I am"

We finished off our drinks and started the game.

***

 

**Half an hour later:**

 

During the game, tension was relatively high between Anderson and I.

I heard a brief yell from Anderson running behind me saying something along the lines of "Hey Watson, catch!" just before I got hit in the back of the head by a ball.

"ouch" I mumbled, rubbing the back of my head. "Anderson, what the hell was that for!" I yelled behind me.

"What, not my fault you can't dodge!"

"Alright everyone, go get another drink" Greg announced as he jogged over to me. "You alright, that looked like it hurt?" he asked patting me on the shoulder.

"yea" I said underneath my breath "yea, fine"

"Why does Anderson hate you anyway?" Greg asked as we walked over to our drink bottles. "It's not like you did anything apart from arrive at the school"

"Well, I did punch him yesterday."

Greg chuckled "yea, that would do it"

"I only did it because he was about to beat the shit out of Sherlock"

Greg just nodded in return and gave me a warm smile and a pat on the back.

"K' lads, back to the game" Greg yelled out to the rest of the team before heading back onto the field.

***

**An hour and a half later:**

After the game had finished, I sat on the bottom of the viewing stands. Greg had left about five minutes ago to go back to his dorm, but I needed to sit for a minute to catch my breath. As I started to stand up, I was able to see Anderson walking towards me. He still had a black eye from the day before and was relatively muddy from the game.

"I haven't forgotten about that punch from yesterday, Watson" He said as he became closer.

I started to stand up, but my knee was still hurting from being tripped earlier in the game. I just wanted to get back to the dorms. "Anderson, just-"

"What no freak to defend you this time" Anderson said coldly while he pushed my shoulders down, forcing me to stay seated.

"Please don't call him that" I said underneath my breath.

"What was that?"

"I said don't call him that" I said more sternly

"Why?" he said as he chuckled "Why do you care?"

"Because clearly nobody else does!" I stood up in front of him "excuse me"

Anderson stayed put "You're not going anywhere Watson"

I let out a huff "Why?"

"Because I still haven't forgotten about the punch from yesterday"

"Okay Anderson, I'm sorry that I-"

Anderson shut me up with a punch in the stomach, causing me to curl over.

"You should just let me hit the freak next time" He said as he started to walk off.

"no" I said quietly lifting my head.

Anderson promptly turned around and walked straight back over to me, only standing about an inch away. "What was that?"

"I said no"

Anderson hit me in the jaw, making me groan due to the pain. He then proceeded to grab the front of my shirt in his muddy hands when I wasn't looking. "Wonna take that back"

"I'm not taking it back because hes my friend and not a freak" I said as calm as I possibly could, still sounding winded from the punch. "Now please, let me go"

"Fine" He said with a smile. Suddenly, he pushed me to the ground, just before kicking me in the side and my saw leg before walking off with a wicked grin on his face. "Seeya round Watson."


	12. Promise

**Sherlocks POV:**

 

I had been looking at hair samples through my microscope for almost three hours when I heard a weak sounding knock at my door.

I checked my watch. '12:42pm, interesting.'

I walked over to my door and began to open it "Chris, for the last ti-" I immediately stopped talking.

leaning against the door frame in front of me, was a muddy, bloody, curled over, John. I automatically started to scan over him.

_'Played football for approximately two hours with brakes in between, hit in the jaw, back of the head and kicked in the ribs three, no, four times and punched in the stomach. Fell over, based on knee. Nothing broken.'_

"Sherlock" he said under his breath, he sounded very winded.

I immediately snapped out of my deduction of what could have possibly caused this and moved to put and arm underneath Johns. I assisted him over to the couch so he could sit. As soon as he was sat down, I hurriedly opened my cupboard and got out my old med-kit Mycroft had given me years ago.

"John, what the hell happened to you, I thought you were going to play football?"

"I did" He said simply

"No, apparently you got hit in the back of the head and the jaw and then proceeded to get kicked in the ribs and punched in the stomach with a lot of weight applied to your knee at some stage." I told him

"How did yo-"

"You know perfectly well John. What happened?" I asked more sternly, as I sat beside him and started to inspect the back of his head.

"Anderson was calling you a freak and I stood up for you" John mumbled "During the game he kicked a ball at the back of my head and tripped me more times than necessary."

"Why did you defend me?"

"Because you're my friend"

"But if you just let it go, this" I gestured to all of his injuries to help make my point "wouldn't have happened" I let out a sigh "What else did he do?" I knew full well what he had done, but I wanted to hear it from John.

John let out a huff, clearly not wanting to tell me the story. "After the game and everyone else had left, he started calling you different names, punched me in the stomach and said he would come after you and I told him no. Then he punched me in the jaw, through me into the mud and kicked me in my ribs and my already injured knee a few times, before walking off." he finished quietly.

"John, don't do that again." I said as I reached down to get a few disinfectant wipes and bandages from my med-kit.

"Why?" I wasn't able to comprehend why John would want to defend me in the first place, but he was clearly not understanding why he shouldn't now.

"Because they can do worse than this and they are bigger than you." I replied as I started to wipe his jaw with one of the disinfectant wipes.

"Sherlock" John said quietly "they aren't allowed to do this to you, to anyone."

"I realise that John, but-"

"No" John cut in "No buts, if they ever beat you up or call you names , I will fight them back next time and kick their ass. Understood?" He said looking me directly in the eyes.

"John-"

"Understood?" He asked a lot more sternly.

"Yes" I mumbled, packing away the wipes.

"Good. I'm one of your friends Sherlock. I will always protect you."

I was silent for a moment while my brain caught up to what I was just told. I cleared my throat "Okay, your jaw should be fine just a bit bruised and you didn't have a mark on the back of your head. I just need to check for concussion."

John protested "Sherlock really, it wasn't that b-"

"Ah, ah John, I'm the doctor now." I said with a small smirk, making the blonde haired boy smile in return.

***

**51 minutes later:**

 

"Sherlock, I'm fine really. You don't need to do this"

"No John, I do"

I was in the process of forcing John to lay down in his bed after cleaning out his cuts and making sure that his head was okay before allowing him to lay down.

"You're lucky that you didn't get a concussion from that damn ball." I said, the anger in my voice rising to the surface slightly at the thought of that moron, Anderson.

John tried to sit up from his bed, but I pushed him back down onto his pillow. "Sherlock-" He huffed

"John, you need to rest your multiple injuries and most importantly your head"

"But Sherlock, it's only..." The blonde lent over to look at the alarm clock on his bedside table. "1:37pm" he concluded and looked back at me "I haven't even had lunch yet, let alone breakfast!"

"Eating wastes time." I stated simply, whilst John had an expression on that would imply that I had just grown ears.

He cleared his throat after a small staring contest and questioned me sounding almost annoyed mixed with confusion. "What?"

"Mmm, I should show you the papers sometime, I've done extensive research on the topic. I was also able to find-"

"Sherlock" John cut in with almost a whisper. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Depends" I replied

John sounded almost like he didn't want the answer, but decided to ask anyway. "on what" he hesitated

"What day it is"

"Jesus Sherlock!" The sandy haired boy proclaimed as he threw his arms in the air. He lowered his voice back to normal register before asking his next question. "Let me get this straight" He started to sit up, but I dared not stop him this time. "You're telling me that you may not have eaten for days."

I stared at him blankly, thinking for a moment before responding with a quick head nod and a "yes".

John started to shuffle out of his bed "That's it, you're getting some food"

"No, not necessary" I stated simply as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"And why not?" he asked dropping his head, seeming to loath the answer already.

"You saw me in the dining hall yesterday, I had a biscuit. Really John I assumed you would have better observational skills than that."

John shook his head slowly before looking back up at me and standing, leaning against the side table to support his leg. "First up, you ate half a biscuit before it got thrown across the room when Anderson pushed you into the table. And secondly" He paused to smile before continuing "I have excellent observational skills"

 

**Johns POV:**

 

I thought how sweet it was of Sherlock to want to try and take care of me when it clearly isn't in his nature, but I really needed to eat and more importantly, so did he.

"Come on then" I said, gently moving Sherlock out of the way "we're getting lunch"

"John" Sherlock said looking at me sharply "That's not going to happen"

"Why not?" I asked as I pushed myself off my bed to stand. As I stood, my right leg suddenly folded out from underneath me, causing me to almost crumple to the ground. Luckily Sherlock was able to react quickly and scooped his arms underneath mine to keep me up.

"Clearly, you're not going anywhere, John" Sherlock smirked as he sat me down on my bed.

"I was able to climb up to your room from the bloody oval, why can't I stand now?" I said, my annoyance being clear in my voice.

"You pushed yourself too far and now you need rest. I suppose if you absolutely require it, I can go and get you food." Sherlock stated shrug and a dead pan expression.

"Yes, please"

"Now, what would you like?" Sherlock asked me as he headed towards the door.

"Just whatever they have, I guess." With that last comment, Sherlock nodded and left the room, leaving me stranded on my bed.

***

It was now almost quarter past two and Sherlock still wasn't back with the food. He'd been gone for about twenty minutes, so I was starting to get worried.

I couldn't stop myself from fidgeting on my bed, something was clearly wrong. It doesn't take that long to get a couple of things for lunch. I took a deep breath and attempted to stand again, making sure to put my weight on my left leg this time. I managed to stand myself up using the bedside table as support and hobbled my way over to the door.

About two minutes later when I was halfway to the stairs, I saw Sherlock reach the top of them and I couldn't help but laugh. Of course what else was he going to do.

Bloody Sherlock Holmes was balancing a large trays worth of food in containers, stacked all the way up to almost cover his face completely.

"John, what are you doing out of bed, you need to rest your leg."

Sherlock carrying that much food and trying to sound serious was too much for me and I became bent over with laughter.

"John?" Sherlock asked as he tried to peer over the multiple containers "why are you laughing"

"Why... do you... have that much... food!" I was able to breath out as I tried to managed my laughter.

Sherlock was stopped in front of me now with a slightly furrowed brow "you told me to get whatever they have, so I got one of everything for you"

I straightened myself up and starting limping hopelessly back to my room, with Sherlock and the stack of containers trailing behind me. "Don't worry, just get in." I said chuckling a little still and shaking my head, letting Sherlock into my room.

Once we were in I hobbled back over to sit on my bed and Sherlock placed the food in front on me on the floor, clearly still confused as to why I was laughing before. I couldn't help but look at him with a very large smile.

"What?"

"You must have bought out the whole bloody kitchen!" I said chuckling

"You asked for whatever they had, so I got everything, like I said before. I'm afraid I don't understand why you're laughing" Sherlock said as he tilted his head while scanning me over.

I chuckled again slightly "For future reference when someone tells you whatever, they usually mean just one thing." I smiled up at him "come on then" I said as I moved back up against the headboard of the bed and sat cross legged, motioning Sherlock to sit in front of me. It was a relatively large bed, so there was room for him to.

Sherlock toed off his converse and mimicked the way I was sitting in front of me. "Now what?" he asked

"Well, seeing as you got enough food to feed a small village, I figured that we may as well eat it." I replied smiling at him "What did you get anyway."

Sherlock also looked over at the food "well I got some mashed potato, sausages, crisps, crackers, An apple, a pear, a few lamb chops, two kebabs, chicken and also ham." he concluded looking back over at me "which would you like?"

"Would you be able to just lift the tray up and put it between us?"

"Certainly" Sherlock stated as he reached down to collect the tray before placing it in the middle of the bed, between us just like I had asked.

"Thank you" I said as I started taking the lids off of all the different types of containers. "oh, did you remember to grab a plate, knife and fork ."

"No, be back in a minute" Sherlock stated as he uncrossed his legs and shuffled off the bed and putting on his shoes.

"Can you please get two plates, two forks and two knives, instead of just one each?" I asked him as he opened the door.

Once again he nodded and left the room.

***

When Sherlock returned a few minutes later, he resumed his previous position, taking off his shoes again and sitting in front of me and the tray of now opened food, cross legged.

"Here you are" he said as he handed me both knives, plates and forks.

I giggled and handed him three back "thank you, but these are for you"

"For me?" he asked as he stared down at the knife, plate and fork in his pale hands.

"Yea, come on, eat up." I said as I started to put mashed potato and some lamb into my plate.

The brunette continued to look at me quizzically. "Sherlock, you're not leaving this room unless you eat something" he raised an eyebrow at me, seemingly questioning my methods. I sighed "Please Sherlock, for me"

"Fine" he huffed, as he placed a sausage and started to cut it up.

"Good" I smiled at him and we continued to eat.

***

 

**Sherlocks POV:**

 

Once I started to eat I realised how hungry I was, I hadn't eaten properly for a while, only snack things like a biscuit or a packet of crisps and perhaps an apple here and there.

John looked up at me from his plate and let out a small laugh. "You enjoying yourself there."

"It seems I have only just realised how hungry I've been" I said as I looked towards John. He had almost finished his mashed potato and was just starting to pick at the lamb chops. Then my eyes flickered up to his face. "John, it appears there is a bruise that is already starting to form on your jaw line."

John let out a sigh "I'm surprised that it hasn't formed already, considering how hard he hit me, I'm just happy he didn't draw blood." The sandy haired boy stated before returning to his food.

"You should just let them get me next time John, just like they did before you came here. It will save you from being beaten up almost everyday of your life."

John seemed to falter for a second before he spoke. "They beat you up everyday?" he asked with a small voice

"Hmm, oh, no, not everyday, only about four or five times a week" I replied with a small smile "Quite good compared to my previous schools, back then I did everyday. It's good because now on the days that they don't actually beat me up, they only verbally annoy me. Gives me a nice break." I concluded with a reassuring smile towards John to show him I was use to it.

Suddenly the aspiring doctor moved around the multiple containers and plates of food and hugged me tighter than I had ever been hugged. "If anyone, ever, does any of that to you again, you are going to tell me" he whispered into my neck.

Still being slightly uncertain of what was happening, I lightly put my arms around John. One on his lower back and one on his upper back.

"I'm not going to let you go through that and think that it's a good thing that they beat you up four times a week, instead of a whole week." John continued to whisper into my neck and the sentiment that was included in such words, made ms tighten my grip on John, as I laid my nose onto his shoulder.

"Promise me that if anyone ever does anything bad to you while I'm not around to stop it, you'll tell me who."

"John" I mumbled into his shoulder "they're bigger than you"

"I don't care" he whispered so lightly, that I would have missed it, had not been so close to him. "Now promise me."

"Promise" I said as I shut my eyes, just letting myself be surrounded in everything John. My first and best friend, John Watson.


	13. Mental Note

**3 days later (Sunday) Johns POV:**

"Hoo, hoo"

I groaned slightly from my bed, annoyed of being awoken from a rather pleasant dream. I turned over and checked the clock on my bedside. 10:34am, on a Sunday morning. I groaned again as I slipped out of my bed and sleepily shuffled (and limped) towards the door.

As I opened the door, I was greeted by an older, small, kind looking women in a floral dress. "Hello?"

"Hello dear" the woman cooed "My names mrs Hudson, I'm the nurse and also one of the head teachers here"

"I'm John, John Watson"

"Mm, yes I know dear" she smiled "I'm here to give you your time sheet for tomorrow"

Still groggy from waking up, I was struggling to remember what tomorrow was. "Sorry" I paused "tomorrow?"

Mrs. Hudson seemed amused by this and giggled a bit "classes start tomorrow dear, don't tell me that you've forgotten"

"Oh right, thanks" I took the offered time sheet out of her hands.

"I best give Sherlock his too before he runs off somewhere" she stated.

As she started to walk away, I hobbled up to her. "I can give the to him if you would like, I'm his friend"

Mrs Hudson turned around abruptly towards me with a large smile "he's made a friend?"

"Yea..." I stammered "is that so unusual" I asked

"Well, it is for him dear" she gave his door a sorry glance "in his first year here he always tried his best to make friends, but for some reason he could never click with them." I took Sherlocks time table out of her hands as she began to talk again. "I've lost count of the number of times that he's stumbled into my office and I've had to fix him up. Poor thing, I even had to send him to the hospital a few times." She paused "but I should go back to my duties now, nice to meet you John."

"Yea, you too"

She gave me a smile and started to walk away again, before briefly turning back towards me. "He may seem like he has a heart of stone sometimes, but no matter what he says it does bother him. Be good to him, he doesn't get that from other students a lot"

I gave her a soft smile "I will"

She gave me a kind nod and walked back down towards the stairs.

***

After Mrs Hudson had left, I shuffled my way over to Sherlocks room.

I knocked on the door a few times and heard a moan come from the other side, before hearing a thud and a groan. I frowned slightly "Sherlock, you okay in there?" In return I got a muffled yes and eventually the door opened to reveal a very sleepy Sherlock, with wild dark chocolate curls flopping over his forehead.

 _'He's quite endearing like th- NO!'_ I mentally scolded myself _'I'm not attracted to my best friend'_ I snapped myself out of my train if thought by asking him what the thud was.

Sherlock hesitated for a moment before answering "I... may or may not have fallen out of bed" he mumbled as he stepped aside to let me through the door before shutting it.

Once I stepped in, I looked him up and down as a small smile crept onto my face. Sherlock was wearing a long sleeved, grey top, that exposed his left shoulder due to being lopsided, but it was the bottom part of the pyjamas that had made me smile. He was wearing long, pyjama bottoms that were so long, even for him, that they sat half way underneath his foot. On the light blue colouring of the trousers, were cute, little, cartoon like, bees.

Sherlock furred his brow at me. "What?" He questioned my smile as he followed my glance and looked down at the trouser legs of his pyjamas. Suddenly his face started to flush pink and his eyes widened. "shit" he mumbled underneath his breath.

I chuckled a bit as Sherlock started going bright red. "It's fine Sherlock really, I think it's cute." without meaning, the words just slipped out and I was shortly as red as Sherlock was.

Sherlock lowered his head in an attempt to hide his glowing red cheeks. _'Stop it! caring is not an advantage'_ The more Sherlock repeated this to himself in his mind, the more the blush retreated, eventually turning his face back to its usual pale colour. He cleared his throat after a short moment of awkward silence at an attempt to break the ice. "Thank you, John"

"You're welcome" I smiled shyly, glad the blush on my face was starting to disappear. "Oh right" I suddenly said as I caught a glimpse of the papers still in my hand "A Mrs Hudson wanted me to give this to you"

Sherlock took the time table out of my hands and examined it closely. "excellent" I heard him mutter underneath his breath, before he looked up from the sheet towards me "what classes do we have together?"

"Umm" before I could answer, Sherlock was already taking the paper out of my hands and comparing the two.

"As I suspected" he announced in his usual cocky tone "We have chemistry and biology together and it would also seem that we will be in the same history class" Sherlock stated as he handed the sheet back to me.

"Ah, good" I replied, probably a bit too quickly. "Thats good...Right?"

"Yes John" Sherlock gave me a small reassuring smile.

_'Okay, good, he seems happy that we'll be in some of the same classes together. Good. Thats Good.'_

Sherlock turned around and started walking back over to his bed and sat down. This left me standing awkwardly in the middle of the large room.

Sherlock patted the bed space next to him "You need to sit John, your leg wouldn't have completely healed yet and it's best not to stress it. It'll probably be better in one to two days, then you'll be free to play football again." He concluded by patting the bed again.

As I started to hobble over to the bed, I spotted a picture frame on the coffee table and picked it up. I let out a small laugh. "Is this you and your dog, what's his name again?" I asked, looking at the picture with a small boy in a pirates costume and a very large hat, with his arms slung around a red dog, before settling it back down onto the table and continuing my way over to the bed.

"Redbeard and yes, that was me when I was five years old. Redbeard was only two at the time."

I sat down on the end of the bed, next to Sherlock "liked pirates then?" I said poking him in the side.

Sherlock let out a small chuckle before answering "what do you mean liked?" he joked "I still have the hat, it's in my cupboard" he nodded towards the area before he swivelled around on the bed and placed his head in my lap.

"Sherlock?" I paused for a moment "what are you doing?"

"I apologise, John, if this is not socially acceptable and I can move if you wish. I am not as brilliant with the social sciences"

"No, no, it's fine" I said still slightly thrown back "just curious what you were doing"

"Entering my mind palace, now if you don't mind John, I will need you to shut up" he said looking up as me before closing his eyes and placing his hands under his chin in a steepled position.

_'Mental note; remember to ask what a mind palace is.'_

***

Sherlock hadn't even shifted a finger while lying across my lap and sitting still for an hour, I had completely run out of things to think about, apart from my numb legs. I looked Sherlock up and down and noticed how his face was moving and realised how deep in thought he must be. His face continued to frown and occasionally his head would shake a little, like he was disagreeing with someone.

I pursed my lips. _'Just do it, it's not like you're attracted to him... Okay, not that attracted to him... Okay, fine, he's gorgeous... But just do it, it'll be fine - completely platonic...'_ My thoughts were racing through my mind as I slowly raised my right hand and started to run it through his dark chocolate curls that were still messy from bed. 'How the hell does he get his hair this soft!' Since doing this gave me something to do and was oddly calming, I moved my other hand into his hair too and I started playing with his curls. A small, purely happy looking smile crept onto Sherlocks lips.

_'Mental note; Always make him feel wanted'_


	14. First class

**3rd person:**

The whole reason why Sherlock decided to enter his mind palace, was because he needed to figure a few things out. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn't seem to place what exactly. The fact that something, or rather someone, was finally starting to intrigue him, caused a lot of new, unprocessed information that he needed to understand and place together. After all, he hates not knowing things...

**Sherlocks POV:**

The door of room 502 swung open as I stepped inside another of the many rooms. A situation like this particular one had not arose before, so it required me searching all of the rooms in the palace in search of the information that I desperately needed. Due to the amount of information that I store, sometimes things get lost.

As soon as I saw what was inside the room, I stepped out and promptly slammed the door shut. How could I have not noticed the room number, I had become so entranced in finding out this new 'problem' of mine, that I completely stopped paying attention and now I would have to pay for it myself.

I started walking quickly down the hall. Just before I had a chance to open the next door, I heard footsteps behind me... of course.

"Hello freak"

"Sally, I know you're not here, so why don't you just leave me alone and step back inside the room with everyone else whose ever been a prat to me." I said as I turned to face her.

Sally's mouth twitched into a quick smirk. "Gets quite crowded in there."

I rolled my eyes at her and tried to walk away again, before being interrupted.

"You never open our door, we're just here." Sally stated walking slowly towards me.

"Mmm, yes, well done." I snarled, starting to get very aggravated from the conversation.

"So what are you looking for?" she queried

"You're in my mind, shouldn't you know."

"Well-"

"You're right though I suppose, no matter where you are, you're never going to know much."

"That sounded like it was going to start off as a compliment" she smiled leaning against the door frame.

"If you must know, I was trying to find information on the-" I let out an irritated huff of air "losing side, as my brother so delicately puts it."

"Now, now brother mine, do you have to be so obvious."

_Mycroft_

"What the hell are you doing here!" I snapped, turning completely around to face him.

"It's your mind brother, I think you should be asking yourself that question." He said as he looked down his nose at me.

I let out another irritated huff "fine, what."

"I am here to remind you that caring is not an advantage"

"Which is why I'm an arse to everyone, what's you're-"

"Not. Everyone." Mycroft stated sharply, holding his head high.

"That's not fair brother, you cannot bring Redbeard into this."

"Actually" Mycroft added with a smile "you brought your beloved Redbeard into this, I was speaking of someone else."

After a long pause, Mycroft rolled his eyes at me. "I am living in a world of gold fish"

"What are you talking about?" I questioned as I walked up to the slightly taller boy.

"You cannot be serious!"

"Mycroft" I said lowering my voice "tell me."

"I have no need to, brother, you're about to find out who soon enough." He said as he spun his umbrella around his hand a few times before continuing. "like I said before, I'm in your mind. I only can know what you know, but currently you are failing to pick up something."

I turned to walk away from my irritating older sibling, only to see that Sally had disappeared and the door was shut once again. I turned back in Mycrofts direction to find that, he too, had left.

Now that they were gone, I was able to focus on both reality and the palace.

"What am I missing, what am I missing, what am I- oh."

I slowly turned around and saw John facing me. He gave me a small, almost sad smile, when suddenly my eyes snapped open.

 

**Johns POV:**

 

I swear I almost jumped out of my skin when Sherlock opened his eyes. "Oh" I cleared my throat awkwardly "hello, welcome back"

Sherlock smirked a little "Hello John, surely I'm not that scary"

"Well..." I joked as I felt Sherlock playfully elbow me in the stomach.

There was a small space, before Sherlock looked directly up at me and started talking again.

"John."

"Yea, Sherlock" for some reason, I had a sudden feeling of nerves flow through my stomach.

"There's something that I need to ask you" he said pursing his lips slightly and I took a breath in.

"Why are your hands carding through my hair?" he asked tilting his head slightly.

_'SHIT...'_

"Umm, well, you looked slightly distressed like you were arguing with someone" I stumbled through my words. "And when I started running my hands through your hair, you smiled, so I assumed-"

 

**Sherlocks POV:**

 

John was quickly becoming a babbling mess, so I decided to fix his worries. Whatever they may be.

"It's fine, John"

"So I thought it would be fine if I just continued, because then you wouldn't be distressed and - Wait. What."

"I said that it's fine."

"Oh" Johns previously stilled hands, started moving again after about a minute.

I gave a small smile up at John, laid my hands on my stomach and closed my eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Johns hands raking through my hair.

"Right, so are you going back into your mind palace thing again, by the way what is that?"

"No" I said plainly "and it's a memory technique. I use it when I am trying to figure something out." I looked up at him and saw him nod.

"What were you trying to figure out?"

I smiled slightly as I shut my eyes, deciding it would be best not to say.

_'Oh, John. If only you knew...'_

***

**The next day - Monday**

I awoke to the annoying sound of knocking on my door, but chose to ignore it. The next thing I knew I could heard a door opening and shutting. 'damn must have forgotten to lock it'. Suddenly, I felt myself being rocked side to side slightly, so I opened my eyes.

"Wake up sleepy head, we need to have breakfast before class starts!" The blonde boy said enthusiastically.

"John, why are you dressed in." I looked him up and down. "Black shoes, long black pants, with a long sleeve white shirt tucked in. Also you're wearing a tie. Why are you wearing a tie?"

John chuckled slightly and sat in the middle of my bed, to the side of me. "You're not the brightest bulb in the mornings are you."

I groaned and rolled over to face the wall, bringing the majority of the blankets (apart from the ones John was sitting on) with me. "Nooooo" I moaned.

"First day of classes, come on, get up!"

"No, I'm exhausted."

John laughed "Sherlock it's January. We just had six weeks worth of Christmas holidays and then we had an extra week to get settled in here."

"Mmm" I murmured into the pillows and buried myself deeper into the duvet.

"Sherrrlock" I heard John say in a higher pitch voice than usual. I could practically hear the smile forming on his face. "Sherly, Sherly, Sherlock"

"You will die a suspicious death if you ever call me by that again" I murmured into the sheets, glad that John couldn't see the small smile forming on the corner of my lips.

"Come on" John placed his hand in my hair and started to ruffle it up. "We'll be late. You wouldn't want to be late on the first day would you?" John said mockingly.

I lifted my head to look over my shoulder at John and gave him the most sarcastic look that I could muster. "John, I know that you have only know me for a week, but surely even you would know better than that. I don't even want to be here. AT. ALL." I raised my voice slightly to prove my point.

"Not even to see some of your acquaintances who might count you as a friend?"

"I don't have friends" I snapped, still snarky from being woken up so early.

I suddenly saw a flash of hurt cross johns face. He pursed his lips together and stood up from the bed and started walking towards the door, before I realised what I had said.

"No" The blonde said, sounding disappointed. "Of course you don't."

 

**Johns POV:**

 

_'I should have know better than to trust a boy that I met on the first day, who claimed straight away that he practically despised other people and then I proceeded to call him my best friend. Of course I freaked him out, he only replied with 'thank you' any wa-'_

As I reached for the doorknob, my rather large thought was interrupted as I felt two, warm arms wrap around me from behind, holding me close.

I felt a head land onto my shoulder. "Please don't leave me" I heard the baritone voice quietly say. "I'm not use to having a friend, so I always revert back to my normal response of being an arse."

I let out a small sigh of relief and lifted my hands to Sherlock wrists on my waist and rested them there. "Sorry" I said clearing my throat "I'm not that great at trusting people."

"Clearly" I heard Sherlock mumble into my shoulder.

"You're not an arse to people, you just tell it the ways it is."

"Yes, but how do you think that other people view me?" As Sherlock spoke I could feel his hot breath on my shoulder and neck.

"Well Greg-" I began, but was quickly cut off.

"Not by Greg."

"Okay then, I think that other people could see it the wrong way and think you're an arse. That would probably be why you get beaten up from time to time." I took a quick pause, but shortly continued. "Am I right?"

"Ten points to Griffindoor!" He announced sarcastically, but with a smile as he unwrapped his arms from me. I turned to smile at him and his decided to take that answer as a 'yes' as he drowsily walked over to his wardrobe to get changed.

As soon as he started to pull off his shirt, I promptly turned around. Well. Almost promptly.

"I'm gonna go change as well and I'll meet you just outside my room yea?" I checked as I started walking towards the bedroom door.

"Yep" Sherlock replied, making sure to pop the 'P'.

***

 

**Sherlocks POV:**

 

John looked up at me from the other side of the table. "You're seriously only going to eat that?" he questioned me, looking down at my half eaten apple in my hand.

"Yes"

"It's better than nothing I suppose, but you better hurry up, class is going to start soon."

"What, am I suppose to down my food as fast as you?" I questioned "It's not an eating contest John."

"Yea, yea, very funny. Just remember that I grew up in a house with Harriet and dad where all the food was placed in the middle of the table and you picked out your share. If you didn't eat fast, you didn't eat." As John completed his sentence the bell rang, signalling the first class.

John and I grabbed our bags from under the table, stood up and started walking out of the hall and towards the main building where the classes are held.

I heard a mass amount of rummaging and looked back to see that John had stopped walking and was searching frantically through his bag. A few seconds later he pulled out his timetable and started scanning over it. "it's Monday, yea?"

"Yes John, we also have science first on the top floor in the Chem. lab."

"I should have known you would have already memorised your timetable. I don't know where any of my classes are and I don't know anyone-"

"You know Greg"

"Great, one person. That's fantastic!" John said sarcastically, obviously very stressed.

"Relax John, I know it's your first official day, but you'll be fine." I reassured as we walked up the hardwood stairs to the 3rd floor.

"Down this way." I told John who was about to continue up the stairs to the next floor.

"You said to the top floor." The sandy haired boy seemed confused, so I elaborated.

"Poor choice of words on my behalf, I should have said final floor, as it is clearly not the top."

If anything, I had just made johns confusion worse. "But, this isn't the final floor." he said turning his head slightly. "There are more stairs."

"Final floor of classrooms, that-" I pointed towards the stairway leading further up."leads to the Library."

"Oh" This seemed to be all John had to say as he continued walking with me to our class.

On the sixth door down on the right, we walked into the laboratory.

***

 

**Johns POV:**

 

In the laboratory there are three rows of tables. Each column consists of four tables, all fit to seat two people per table. In the front of all the desks, with about a metre and a half gap between them, sat a long stand alone bench with a sink embedded into it used for examples that belonged to the teacher. Behind the stand alone bench, on the front wall, is a very large white board with a projector attached to the roof slightly in front of it. In the very back of the laboratory there is a bench with five sinks attached to the whole of the wall. Above the bench and on either side of the lab, there are many cabinets that are filled with different scientific equipment.

As I stood in slight awe in the doorway, Sherlock made his way to the back right desk, sitting on the laboratory stool closest to the window, on the right. He took off his bag, placed it underneath the table and singled for me to join him.

I walked over and sat next to Sherlock.

"Smooth..." The raven haired boy told me sarcastically.

"Pardon?"

"You stood in the doorway for about a minute, seemingly hypnotised by the room." Sherlock chuckled slightly.

"Oh"

The dark haired boy smiled "You should be alright as far as first impressions go. I doubt anyone would have noticed and its rather good equipment anyway, though I have much better at my house."

After a few more minutes of chatting, the teacher walked in and class started.

 

**3rd person:**

 

"Now class, I am Mr. Trevor, by no means shall you call me victor or any other name..." The teacher glared in Sherlocks direction before continuing. "With the task sheet that I am about to hand out, you are to complete by next week, no exceptions!"

As Mr. Trevor picked up the stack of papers and started handing them out to the group of students, John looked over to Sherlock beside him who was still visibly smirking from the glare the teacher had given him.

"What was that about?" John asked quietly, already imitated by Victor.

Sherlock looked down at John, still smirking slightly. "I may or may not have called him an idiot a few times."

John giggled a small bit "Why?"

The taller boy smiled, turning to look out the window. It had just started to rain. "Oh please, the man can barely string a sentence together, let alone teach advanced chemistry."

"Is that right Mr. Holmes" a harsh voice spoke from behind John, rendering the blonde ridged on his stool.

Sherlock slowly turned around to face the teacher, not too much taller than himself.

"It's rude to talk about people behind their backs William." Victor said sternly, placing the work sheets down on their bench.

"And it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations" Sherlock smirked victoriously, knowing he had won as Mr. Trevor scowled and moved off to his seat at the front of the class.


	15. Already lost

**3rd person - 45 minutes later, end of first part of class:**

"Now that first lesson is over and seeing as it's first day, I think that it would only be fair to give you an experiment to perform." Mr Trevor announced to the class as the first bell rang out across the school.

As Mr Trevor described what prac. they would be performing, John and Sherlock exchanged glances, already knowing that they were going to be each others lab partners. They eventually turned their attention back to the teacher.

"For this prac, I am going to get you to choose your own partner, but..." The teacher paused for effect and John and Sherlocks heads immediately snapped up, now paying complete attention. "You will have to go with the person of the opposite gender. It's a great opportunity to get to know so more people in your year level, especially for those who are brand new here. Now" the teacher enthusiastically clapped his hands together "find your partners!"

John slowly slid off of his stool and stood in the middle of the lab, at an attempt to find a partner. As he stood in the middle of the room, he looked over to see that Sherlock had already acquired a partner. A small, pretty, friendly looking girl with long hair, who gave him the impression of a mouse. As uncomfortable as the tall brunette looked, he seemed to be able to enjoy her company.

John looked around the lab, before walking (still limping slightly) up to a pale, blonde girl sitting at the front of the lab on her own.

"Hi, I'm John"

***

  
**Sherlocks POV:**

 

As I was walking back from the side of the lab with a beaker and a few test tubes, I looked up to see John sitting relatively close, chatting and laughing with the blonde girl at the front left of the lab.

I walked back to my table, placing down the equipment, before deducing the girl. _'Naturally blonde, single, sitting very close together, laughing and playing with her hair and occasionally touching johns arm. Obviously attracted to him.'_

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard someone behind me giggle slightly. I turned to face Molly.

"What?" I snapped, keeping my intense stare on her as she walked beside me, placing a Bunsen burner on the table. All I got was a small smirk in return.

I let out a huff clearly irritated at not getting an answer.

"So..." Molly smirked, nodding slightly towards John. "Whose he then?"

"John?" I asked tilting my head, confused at the question.

'Why would she need to know about John.'

"Yea, who is he" Molly further pried, seeming to be entertained by my reaction.

'Why is she trying not to smile?'

"He's new, he's my friend, he also plays football and defended me against Anderson and his goons. Oh, he also calmed me down, of some sorts, after I had a particularly horrific nightmare." I concluded, turning to collect an apron and a pair of safety glasses, that Molly had already placed on my seat. As I was tying the apron together, the small girl spoke again.

Molly grinned. "What, were you taking a kip on his couch or something?"

"I didn't fall asleep on his couch, he and I were talking late one night in his room. He left to make tea at one point and once he returned I had fallen asleep against his bed in an apparently awkward position, so he picked me up and placed me on the couch." I said simply.

"You said he calmed you after a nightmare?" Molly questioned, still smiling from ear to ear as she attached the Bunsen burner to the gas pipe.

"Mm yes. I woke up after it to find John in front of me stroking my hair to calm me down. Because it was late and I hadn't slept for a few days, I was seemingly in emotional distress and he pulled me into a hug. He sat on the couch and pulled me into his lap, where I, shamefully might I add, sobbed into his shoulder. He wanted me to cheer up, I suppose, because he asked if I wanted to lay down with him on the couch. He laid down and hugged me to his chest, pulling a blanket over us both." I explained, aware that I may have said too much

"He seems quite nice then" Molly said, practically beaming

"Oh I see where this is going." I huffed "Yes Molly, John is currently single, but not for much longer judging by the way he's acting with that gi-" I was suddenly cut off by an elbow bumping me in my side.

"Not for me you git!" The small girl laughed. "For you!"

I furred my eyebrows in confusion, being even more confused of why I was blushing more than the question at hand. "What do you mean?"

Molly let out an amused huff and stared at me. "You have got to be joking right? Have I found something the great Sherlock Holmes can't even tell!" the mousy girl boasted as I tilted my head in further confusion. "You've got it bad."

"Got what bad?"

"You're in love with him!" She said in a loud irritated whisper.

For a few moments I was stunned into silence, before I was able to find my words. "Love is a chemical defect found on the loosing side." I scowled, unknowingly looking back towards John and the annoying blonde girl.

"If that's true Sherlock..." The short girl started following my glance and looking towards John. "Then you've already lost."

***

  
**Johns POV:**

 

After our double lesson of chemistry had finished, Sherlock and I headed down to the hall for recess. We chose our food and sat down across from one another, me having an apple and Sherlock only having a singular biscuit. Sherlock was silent throughout the whole of recess and seemed deep in thought, so I just decided to leave him to it. By the time the bell rang, signalling next class, Sherlock had not said a word. He directed me to my health class before he left for his French class, or something.

I walked into the class on the second floor to see that I knew no one in the room.

The room itself was nowhere near as impressive as the lab. With a whiteboard at the front, a teachers desk at the side near the door and two large windows on the opposite side of the room , twelve double seated wooden desks facing the board, with a grey carpet, dark wood walls and a large bookcase at the back right, it looked like every other class in the school. Well, from what I had seen walking past the open doors.

"Name?" The teacher asked sternly from her desk.

"Oh. Ah, John. John Watson." I stuttered, slightly put off already by the teachers harsh voice.

"Good. Go take a seat next to Mike Stamford." The teacher replied as she ticked off my name on the list.

I faulted for a moment, quickly trying to figure out who Mike Stamford was, before the teacher rolled her eyes and pointed towards a slightly rounder boy with glasses sitting in the middle row, at the second to last desk to the window.

I shuffled between the desks, before finally making it to the one I was assigned and placed my bag under the desk.

"Hello" The boy said cheerily with a rich northern accent, offering his hand. "I'm Mike, Mike Stamford."

"Hi, John Watson" I smiled, shaking his hand as I took my seat.

***  
The lesson timetable allow us for a double lesson (90 mins) in the morning, a 20 minute recess, a single lesson (45 mins), then a double, then a 40 minute lunch break before another double in the afternoon, with classes starting at 9:10am and ending at 3:20pm. So by the time that Mike and I had talked for about half an hour, doing scraps of work in between talking, the lesson was almost at an end.

"What do you have next?" Mike asked, as he looked up to copy off more information from the board.

"Ummm" I murmured as I pulled my timetable out of the diary we had been given to write homework in. "Literacies in room 9. You wouldn't happen to know where that is would you?" I asked as I placed the diary back in my bag and continued to write down the information off the board.

Mike chuckled slightly. "Actually, I have the same class, so you can just follow me."

"Oh cool, thanks"

***

  
**1hr 45 minutes later:**

 

As soon as the lunch bell rang, Mike and I packed up our things and fled the class like we were being held captive.

"So" Mike asked as we walked towards the hall to grab lunch "Met anyone you fancy yet?"

I let out a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of my head 'Why am I nervous!?' "Um...yeah"

"Ohh, who is it?" The stout boy questioned eagerly

"I did get a girls, uh Sarah I think, number whose in my chemistry class, but I don't really fancy her..." I answered as I cleared my throat and we entered the hall.

"But you said you did fancy someone, who is it you-"

"Hey Sherlock" I said across the room and cut mike off in the process, as I walked towards the table on the far side of the hall that Sherlock was sitting at.

I sat down on the seat next to Sherlock, smiled and looked over at Mike to see that he was shocked. "Sherlock, this is-"

"Mike Stamford." Sherlock finished for me and gave a small smile in Mikes direction.

"Sherlock" Mike greeted cheerily and sat opposite of us both. "John was just about to tell me-"

"I'm going to get some lunch, Sherlock, you coming?" I said quickly as I stood.

"Lunch can wait a few minutes, John, just tell me who you-"

"Sherlock..." I said, giving Mike a pointed stare, not bothering to find out how Mike and Sherlock know each other in the first place and cleared my throat again, looking down at the dark haired boy beside me. "You need to eat something" I smiled softly and pulled his wrist lightly. "Come on."

Sherlock smiled at me and stood, while Mikes eyes widened as he suddenly exclaimed "Oh!"

Sherlock frowned and looked down towards Mike. "What?"

The rounder boy smiled brightly and looked towards me, then back to Sherlock and laughed, shaking his head. "Nothing Sherlock."

Sherlock squinted his eyes at Mike slightly as I started to walk towards the kitchen area, before deciding to follow me.

"Oh Sherlock, one more thing." Mike piped up from the table, still beaming. Sherlock and I stopped and looked towards the boy "Hang on to him" Mike gestured towards me and I shifted where I stood. "You never know and you certainly, wouldn't know."

"I don't know what your talking about, Mike, but I'm sure that I would be able to deduce." Sherlock smirked as he walked back towards the table. I stood frozen in my spot. If anyone would be able to notice, it would be Sherlock.

"John could probably say now and I don't think you would believe him" Mike said with a sad smile, looking towards me. "Look after him would you" The shorter boy directed at me and I gave him a small nod.

"He doesn't always notice everything..." Mike continued solemnly.

"John?" Sherlock turned to me, his façade lowering for a moment, voice wobbling, before placing his shields up again.

I gave him a reassuring smile "It's alright Sherlock... Come on, lets get lunch."


	16. Crime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the cases begin - M

**Thursday , 2:34pm - 3rd person:**

 

The entirety of the French class, apart from one particular student, looked up from their work as they heard a knock at the door.

"Hello, may I help you?" the teacher asked as she looked up from her desk to see a tall boy with an umbrella that hung from his arm.

"Yes, I am here to collect Mr. Sherlock Holmes." At this remark, Sherlock looked up from his position at the back of the class and promptly rolled his eyes once he saw who it was.

"I... I'm sorry...Who are you?" The younger teacher, Mrs Wallis, stuttered. "And why do you need-?"

"I am Mycroft Holmes, the elder. I need to pick up my baby brother on a call of...Business." Mycroft tilted his head towards his brother as he spoke and Sherlock, at the word of business, had already packed his stuff, picked up his bag and had started walking out of the class.

***

"I have pulled you out of class as I have just received a phone call from a possible client of yours" Mycroft spoke coldly as they walked down the many halls of the school. "Apparently, she was unable to reach you earlier."

At this, Sherlock suddenly pulled his phone out of his pocket to see that it had run out of battery. "This had better be interesting Mycroft. I actually enjoy French..."

"Now, now, brother mine, don't become cocky. You're only seventeen, you should consider yourself lucky that you actually get offered cases."

"What is it Mycroft?" The younger asked, becoming more and more irritable with each passing second.

"A woman, going by the name of Annabel Robinson, found her husband dead and floating in a pond in the park near their house."

"How did she know to go to the park to find the body?" Sherlock queried.

"She found a note taped to her flats door knocker, along with a warning to herself." Mycroft brought up the picture of the note on his phone.

Sherlock let out a huff "Fine, I suppose I'll look into it." Both boys stepped onto the second to last floor, before the younger turned to walk down the hall, instead of the stairs.

"Why are we going down this way?" Mycroft questioned as they walked past different classes.

"Collecting John."

"John?" The elder boy raised an eyebrow at his younger sibling.

"He's my friend and a doctor in training... He may be useful." The raven haired boy avoided his brothers eye contact and started to move towards room 4. Johns health class. He knew the other boy would be in health because he always is when he's in French.

"Friends..." The older boy scowled "You go into that sort of thing now then, I suppose."

"In a way" Sherlock said under his breath.

"Caring is not an advantage Sherlock"

"How would you know?" Sherlock sneered under his breath, as he opened the door to Johns class.

 

***

 

"Sherlock, why did you pull me out of class?" John asked as he was now sat in the back of a black car with Sherlock sitting next to him. "Also, come to think of it, how did you pull me out of class?"

"Mycroft knows people" Sherlock answered simply, gesturing to his brother whose currently driving.

"And Mycroft is..."

"His elder brother." Mycroft suddenly spoke up from the drivers seat.

"Right, okay... And where are we going, don't think I'm going to let you get away without telling me that."

"A case. I believed you would be of some help, being a doctor in training and all."

"Sorry. A case... A case of what." John asked fidgeting in his seat.

"Have I not mentioned yet?" Sherlock asked, tilting his head to look out the window.

"Umm, no..."

"I'm a consulting detective, the only one in the world. I invented the job."

"Right, and?" John answered slowly, still trying to grasp onto what was happening.

"And the police gave my number to a woman, going by the name of Annabel Robinson, who found her husband dead in a park pond that is located near her house." The taller boy stated simply.

"Why did the police give her your number?" John questioned again, now completely baffled.

"Because when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they contact me. Clearly they were too embarrassed to do it themselves this time, so they used the widow as one of their flying monkeys to do their bidding."

 

**Johns POV:**

 

I smiled at Sherlocks comment about the police. It's quite obvious that he doesn't like the them much.

***

  
**4:38pm**

Once we finally arrived at the park after a long drive, we made our way around trees until we were somewhere near the middle.

The large area was covered to the brim in police tape, officers and cars. Most officers seemed to be taking statements from pedestrians and probable witnesses and Mycroft walked far out in front of us.

As we walked towards the scene of the crime, I looked beside me to see Sherlock shivering slightly.

"Do you have a coat with you or something?" I asked the taller boy, who in turn, promptly shook his head.

"Okay" I sighed "Do you own a coat?"

"At one point I did, but it just got burned up in a run away experiment at one of my last schools, I think you can tell what happened after that. Of course, when I was packing up my stuff and moving yet again out of my assigned room, I never bothered to get another." Sherlock explained

 

**Sherlocks POV:**

 

"Aren't you cold?" The shorter boy asked as we started to get a bit closer to the pond.

"I don't let myself get cold"

"You're shivering..." John pointed out

As I walked, I held out my hand in front of me and let out a hum of recognition, while the shorter boy let out a defeated huff.

"Here" John said, shuffling in his jacket. "at least take this." The slightly older boy offered me his black jacket and I stared at him confused.

"It's cold, Sherlock, and you don't have a coat or anything. It's not like our uniforms are very warm."

"No John, I-"

"Just take it." John said, now pressing the jacket to my chest.

"Fine..." I replied as I slipped the small jacket on, suddenly being comforted and entirely surrounded by John. 'John' .

The older boy spoke up again. "You really should get a coat you know. It's January." The smaller boy wrapped his arms around his figure at an attempt to keep himself warm.

"John, just take the jacket back."

"No, you need it more. You're just skin and bones." John said through his teeth, the cold obviously getting to him.

"J-"

"Nope" He replied quickly popping the P

I sighed "So your just going to let yourself freeze while I bask in the worth of your, slightly too small, jacket."

"Yes" John answered rubbing his arms up and down.

 _'He's right though'_ I thought _'our school uniforms are rubbish at keeping us warm in any way, shape or form.'_

 

**3rd person:**

 

"Brilliant plan..." Sherlock answered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "How about on the weekend we can walk into the village and you can help me get a coat that you think would be satisfactory."

"It's a date." John quickly agreed and Sherlock froze in his tracks.

When blond boy noticed that Sherlock had stopped walking, he looked at him questioningly before realising what he had just said. "Not...no, not like that!" John stuttered out, a flush quickly rising up his neck "I..I...didn't mean-"

"It's okay John." Sherlock reassured "I'm sure you didn't mean it that way."

"Yeah, thank you" John let out a sigh of relief. " The shorter boy thought for a moment. "Unless...you meant it that-" he stuttered out, but was quickly cut off.

"No, no. It's fine John ." the consulting detective cut in, thinking he was saving John from further embarrassment, before a very large realisation went through his head of possibly the biggest missed opportunity he could think of in his life so far.

'IDIOT! IDIOT! IDIOT!' Sherlock scolded himself internally.

"Okay boys!" A dark haired police officer, that Sherlock vaguely recognised from behind the police tape, suddenly barked. "Your brother has bought you, at tops, twenty minutes, so you better hurry up!"

***

"Hit man service. Lock her up and try to locate the person who did it. It was a man if that's any help to you." Sherlock stated with his usual monotone and slightly patronising voice as he finalised his deducing and pointed to the wife. She was currently sitting in the back of an ambulance with a shock blanket wrapped around her with tissues clumped together in her hands.

All of the police and forensic department looked at Sherlock surprisingly patiently, waiting for how he managed to get to that conclusion.

The detective let out an annoyed huff. "Really?" he asked looking at them all with wide eyes "You can't even figure out this!" Pointing frantically at the body laid out before them.

"Sherlock..." Mycroft warned

Sherlock let out another agitated huff before he explained himself. "Clearly it was a man who killed Mr. Robinson, based on the size and shape of the finger prints around the side of his neck. The brushing on his stomach, sides and neck and with there being no cuts of any kind on his knuckles showing that it may have been himself that started a fight, suggest that this was a man with training who took down Mr. Robinson, hit man then. The note on the door that Annabelle, shall we say received, was not the note that she was actually sent. No that was a woman's writing, her own in fact if you look at her wrist shape and posture. That was a note that she had written after she had read the actual note. The actual note would have been to incriminating to herself, so she had to ring in a suspect so that she wouldn't have to go to jail."

"Amazing" John said under his breath and Sherlock looked at him confused for a moment before drawing his attention back to the police.

"Okay, but why would the hit man send her a threat?" a particularly thick policeman, who was jotting down notes, asked.

"Financial issues." Sherlock stated as he brought out a phone from his trouser pocket. "All you have to do is look through her messages."

"Brilliant" John complimented again.

"Did you know that you do that out loud?" Sherlock questioned.

"Sorry, i'll stop"

"No..No, it's fine."

"How the hell did you get that!" Annabelle suddenly yelled from the ambulance.

Sherlock huffed out a laugh and scoffed. "Please." He was now looking over his shoulder at the woman who looked like she was about to blow a fuse. "And you can stop pretending to cry now, if you think that I have heart enough to let you go, I do have to tell you that I have been informed that I don't have one."

"Clearly she underestimated the cost of the hit man and when she couldn't pay up, he would have sent her letters. First asking for the correct amount of money and the second being a threatening note explaining that, if she actually bothered to read the contract, he now get to bump her off as well. Not being able to find a way to come up with the correct amount of money in time and not being able to go to the police without going to jail for at least twenty five years, if she planted a note she could get him arrested without looking like she knew the guy who killed her husband." Sherlock continued.

"Why did she kill him in the first place though?" A police woman asked.

"Are you people not listening!" The consulting detective all but shouted "I said she was having financial trouble. He was insured for god sakes, what do you think!" Sherlock looked at all of the, now slightly scared, police officers. "Insurance money!"

"Well, thank you Mr. Holmes." One of the head officers announced. "Your brother will hand you over a cheque once it comes in for your help on the case."

"No, I don't want the money, the crime itself is enough. Good day." Sherlock told the officer as he started walking back towards the black car and past the now restrained and fuming Annabelle. "Come along John."

John suddenly snapped out of his dazed state and followed along behind Sherlock, back to the car.

"Come back boys." Mycroft said "Sherlock don't forget that you now have plenty of papers to fill out and sign."

Sherlock let out an exhausted huff and walked back over to the crime scene. He followed an officer to one of the police cars and started to fill out the forms, leaving John awkwardly standing with Mycroft.

***

**9:36pm:**

 

They drove back to the school in silence, it had been a long day filled with irritating officers. Sherlock looked out through the window and could see that it was getting dark. He had solved the case in about ten minutes at most, it was just the explaining and filling out forms that had taken the most time.

 

**Sherlocks POV:**

 

As I looked outside the window, I felt something land on my shoulder, the weight slowly increasing. I looked over to my left only to see that John had fallen asleep on me and smiled at him. The day had probably been exhausting for him, filled with classes and then being dragged off to a case, only to have to wait a few hours afterwards because officers wouldn't stop talking to me as I tried to fill out the multiple forms and give extra statements. Waiting that long wouldn't have been easy, especially having to spend that time with Mycroft.

I carefully shifted my position so that I was leaning against the door and that Johns head was leaning against my chest. I moved my arms gently around his waist and soon found my brother giving me a look in the mirror with a raised eyebrow, before refocusing on the road in front of us. I decided to ignore him and let my nose fall into Johns hair as I shut my eyes. Mycroft could wait.


	17. Even machines break down

**Friday, chemistry (double lesson before lunch), Johns POV:**

 

I sat in the back of the class in our usual spot near the window, waiting for Sherlock to arrive. The class was already fifteen minutes in and the younger boy was never late to chemistry. It's his favourite class - despite what he says about it.

_'That's weird, he was a recess...'_

I tried to copy down a few of the notes, but it was no use. I couldn't focus. I continued to shift in my chair when suddenly I heard my name called.

"John?" Mr. Trevor bellowed from the front of the class.

_'Shit.'_

"Umm, yeah..." I swallowed thickly, not having a clue on what the question was.

"Care to share what you were thinking about." The teacher asked coldly. I could hear the other students snickering and whispering something about Sherlock. It wasn't hard to figure out what they were saying.

"Umm...it's the...Err-"

Luckily Mr. Trevor's attention was shifted from me and onto Sherlock, as he walked into the class room, holding an icepack to his cheek. He manoeuvred himself around the other desks, before plonking himself down next to me, "Nice of you to finally join us, William." The teacher snapped and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"You couldn't have possibly been teaching something that I don't already know." The junior detective said as he stared his most hated teacher straight in the eyes.

The teacher let out a huff of surrender and continued to write down notes on the board.

"What the hell happened to you and why does he keep calling you William!" I whispered as I lent over to Sherlock.

"Nothing, John." Sherlock replied harshly "Just get back to your work..."

The detective put his earphones in, signalling a complete end to our conversation and leaving me with nothing to do but to continue with my work.

***

**Lunch time:**

 

"Did someone beat you up again?" I asked Sherlock as we walked into the hall with our lunch and sat at one of the tables. It being too cold to sit outside.

"No, I just...Tripped."

"Sherlock" I said sternly "Let me see your cheek."

"No."

"If you didn't get beat up, then why not?"

Sherlock let out a huff "Because then you'll see that I got hit."

"Jesus, Sherlock... " I sighed. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because you'd have asked who punched me and inevitably get yourself into a fight because you're stupid enough to defend me." The detective stated in a monotone voice, never once looking up from the table. He looked up at me for a moment before slowly shifting the ice pack from his cheek.

"Christ" I said underneath my breath, before moving my chair out from under the table and sitting down next to Sherlock to get a closer look at his cheek bone.

The skin around the cut that someone's knuckles had made was already a dark purple colour with a bit of blue mixed in.

"Can I-" I started, gesturing to his cheek. Receiving a small nod in return.

I gently moved my fingers over his cheek, feeling just how swollen it was. I pressed down a tad harder, accidentally making Sherlocks eyes squeeze shut and him flinch slightly. "Sorry, I'm just checking that nothing's broken."

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here." I heard a harsh voice say and looked up, only to see Chris from the football team. "It's the two fags..."

The detective tensed as he heard his voice and squeezed his eyes shut tighter than they already were. I shifted my hand from his cheek to his shoulder as an attempt to comfort the younger boy.

"Does your cheek still hurt, freak!" Chris said rather loudly, making all the students sat in the hall stare in our direction.

Sherlock stayed silent, moving his head to look down, eyes remaining shut.

"I asked you a question, freak! Or are you too focused on your boyfriend?" This made the majority of the people in the hall laugh.

I dropped my hand off of Sherlocks shoulder and made a move to stand up. Suddenly I felt a hand pressing down onto my knee. I looked over at Sherlock sitting next to me, his bright blue eyes baring into my own and subtly shaking his head. An aggravated huff escaped my mouth as I stayed seated.

"So? What is it." the rather large football player said sternly.

"Yes." The raven haired boy mumbled quietly "My cheek still hurts. No he is not my boyfriend."

"For once I can tell you're telling the truth Holmes..." Chris said calmly, quietly. Enough to elicit an air of panic around the two boys. They knew something worse would have to be coming.

The football player turned around, about to walk off when he spoke again, looking at them both over his shoulder. "He couldn't be your boyfriend. No one could ever love you. You're just a machine..." And with that last comment, leaving most of the hall in a fit of laughter and Sherlock hiding under his mop of curls, Chris walked off to his table of laughing friends.

***

  
**3rd person:**

 

Johns glare followed Chris as he walked. How dare he say that to Sherlock. To anyone! However badly he wanted to just get up and give Chris a piece of his mind, he made himself stay seated. He knew Sherlock was right. If he got up, it would just make the situation worse.

Almost as soon as the football player sat down with his, still laughing, friends. Sherlock abruptly stood up, grabbed his bag and ran out of the hall, leaving more laughter behind him.

When John heard and saw the other students erupt with more laughter, he turned around to where Sherlock would have been sitting. Looking up in time only to see his bag disappear around the corner of the door.

***  
1:34pm  
 _Sherlock? Where did you go, I can't find you -_ JW

1:36pm  
 _Sherlock, where are you? -_ JW

1:42pm  
 _I've check all around the grounds near the hall -_ JW

1:45pm  
 _Are you going to be in the next class? -_ JW

1:45pm  
 _Chris won't be there, if that's what you're worried about -_ JW

1:46pm  
 _Where are you? -_ JW

1:46pm  
 _please tell me -_ JW

1:48pm  
 _The bells going to go soon, so I don't have time to check your dorm -_ JW

1:49pm  
 _Just let me know if you're there already, just so I know_ \- JW

1:52pm  
 _The bells just gone, so I have to go. Just tell me if you're okay_. - JW

1:55pm  
 _It won't matter if you're not in the next class, just reply if you're alright._ \- JW

1:58pm  
 _Please reply Sherlock_ \- JW

2:02pm  
 _Okay, you're scaring me now_ \- JW

2:07pm  
 _I just want to know that you're okay_ \- JW

***

John sat alone in his history class. Ever since he had run out of the hall, the future doctor hadn't been able to find Sherlock. Not that he had had much time to search for him before the bell rang. He couldn't even get a response to one of the fifty messages that he had sent him.

The future doctor looked up from the book he had been reading to pass time as the teacher was usually late, to see the brown haired girl that Sherlock had been talking to the other day, sitting at one of the middle seats. He immediately closed his book 'Hitch-hikers guide to the Galaxy' and walked over to where she was seated.

"Hi." John began awkwardly, the small girl looking up from her laptop "You're a friend of Sherlocks, yeah? I saw you talking to him in chemistry the other day."

The girl looked at him confused for a moment before a look of realisation crossed her face. "Oh, you must be John. Sherlocks told me a lot about you. I'm Molly."

John was taken aback for a moment, becoming completely distracted. "He's told you a lot about me?"

"Yeah, never shuts up." Molly smiled up at him "What did you want to ask me?"

"Does he have any hiding places that you would know about?" He asked cautiously.

"Fraid not. Why?"

John decided to ask, though even he thought it would be an obvious answer. "You weren't in the hall at lunch were you?"

"No, I was in my dorm with a few friends. What happened?" At that moment, Mrs. Jillian walked in and ordered everyone to turn to page 46 of their text book. The blond quickly write down his mobile number in a word document Molly had open and said he'd tell her later over text.

 

***

  
**Johns POV:**

 

As soon as classes finished for the day, I pushed my way through the multiple doors and students, running towards the dorm building and up the stairs. I unlocked the door to my room, throwing my bag onto the bed, before exiting again and knocking on Sherlocks door.

*knock, knock, knock*

Silence

*knock, knock, knock* "Sherlock, it's me. Open up."

When I was greeted with silence again, I decided to see if he had forgotten to lock his door again. I turned the doorknob, only for it to refuse to turn the full way around.

_'Damn it. The one time he remembers.'_

I laid my hand flat against the wood of the door. "Sherlock...Please. Open the door."

I heard a small, muffled noise, come from inside the room.

'Good. He's in there then.'

"What was that?" I asked gently, leaning my forehead against the door.

"Go away, John." A stern voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"I'm not leaving until I know that you're alright." I replied calmly.

"I'm fine!" The detective loudly exclaimed from his room, though I could have sworn I heard a crack in his voice. "Now. leave. Me. ALONE!"

I huffed patiently and patted the door. "Alright Sherlock. Just tell me if you need me."

"Why would I need you." Sherlock sneered in a dark tone.

"I don't know, Sherlock. I don't know."

So I walked away...


	18. Happy birthday, Sherlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a long chapter - M

**Third person:**

Sherlock chose not to leave his room for the duration of the weekend, as much as John tried to get him to even just go down and have lunch with him, he refused.

The blond spent the weekend playing football with Greg and the rest of the lads, now able to get along with most of the players on the team. Somehow he also had managed so far not to give Chris a piece of his mind as well.

John continued to talk to Harry over the phone as well, telling her about how the first week of school was and about the gorgeous tall, brunette, genius, who also happened to be his best friend. Of course neglecting his history homework until the last minute. He even moved his bed back against the corner of the left wall, that connected with sherlock room, with the right wall that the door was on, shifting his bedside table to the right of his bed. his wardrobe also on the back left wall, its side against the left wall with the window. John decided to leave the desk in its original place, against the wall underneath the middle window looking out across the grounds of the school, the large book case now on the left side of it. The couch also stayed in its place on the right wall near the bathroom. All as a form of procrastination.

***

  
**12:34am (Monday morning) January 6th - Johns POV:**

 

I yawned and scratched my head again as I tried to finish off my history homework. I could hear Sherlock playing his violin through the wall and couldn't help but get distracted.

I let out a frustrated noise. 'Only one chapter left. I had the whole freaking weekend! Why do I do this every freaking time!"

As I started page one of chapter 5, my phone beeped.

I reached into my pocket and opened messages, seeing one from an unrecognised number.

12:36am  
 _Sherlocks birthday is today, I would suggest you acknowledge it._ \- MH

I frowned at my phone. Why didn't Sherlock tell me. Figuring the MH stood for Mycroft Holmes, I wrote a text back.

12:37am  
 _Why didn't he tell me?_ \- JW

12:39am  
 _You know him, how many friends do you think he has. He wouldn't like to seem a bother_. - MH

12:39am  
 _Also, I heard about what happened in the hall at lunch time on Friday_ \- MH

I sighed as I looked at my phone, the music from Sherlocks room still echoing into my own.

12:43am  
 _He's barely talked to anyone all weekend, or come out of his room... I don't think he even wants me as a friend anymore._ \- JW

12:44am  
 _Even the hardest people in the world use to be as soft as water. That's the tragedy of living._ \- MH

I set down my phone and wiped my hands over my face, closing my text book and setting my alarm for 6:30 in the morning. I changed into my pyjamas and got into bed.

_'The bakery better be open tomorrow'_

***

  
**3rd person, 7:46am:**

 

John walked carefully up the stairs of the school, balancing an iced cupcake on a plate, with a candle stuck in the top. A packet of matches in his trouser pocket.

The future doctor had woken up at six thirty this morning, quickly showered and changed into his school uniform, before running out of the school and into the small village that had a bakery. He wanted to get Sherlock something for his birthday, even if it wasn't much.

He walked up to the detectives door and turned the door knob, surprised to find it unlocked.

Slowly walking into the room and shutting the door behind him, he smiled softly as he saw Sherlock asleep in his bed. Curled up in the covers.

John sang quietly, as he walked up to Sherlocks bedside. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you." The detective started to stir as John knelt down in front of Sherlocks head, that was now pressed into his pillow. "Happy seventeenth, dear Sherlock..." The detectives eyes opened slowly and looked the shorter boy straight in the eyes. John smiling gently at him. "Happy birthday, to you..."

A small smile slipped onto Sherlocks face as he looked questioningly at John. "How did you-"

"Mycroft told me..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and the blond grinned. "Now, since you didn't tell me it was your birthday today, I didn't have a chance to get anything for you. I did go down to the village bakery to buy you this though." John said as he lifted the cupcake, before placing the plate on the floor. He took the matches from out of his trouser pocket and lit the candle on top.

Placing the matches back into his pocket again, he picked up the plate, levelling it with Sherlocks face. "Don't forget to make a wish when you blow it out."

The detective looked at the blond dubiously for a moment before carefully blowing out the candle.

John stood up from his knees and sat on the bed in front the others boys curled up frame. "So...Are you going to tell me why you wouldn't talk to me all weekend?"

Sherlock looked up at the future doctor from his pillow. "I wanted to be alone."

John nodded and continued "Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday today?"

The raven haired boy shrugged "I didn't want to be a bother. I don't like my birthday anyway..."

John frowned down at the boy, still covered by his duvet. "Why not?"

Sherlock let out an exhausted sigh, before explaining. "Because each year I would have a birthday party and each year it consisted of me waiting at my dining table, wearing a party hat and mummy telling me that the other kids probably just didn't show up because they were caught traffic. When I was thirteen and nobody showed up, I decided to give up on birthdays..."

The blond boy pursed his lips, running his hand through the other boys hair once, before noticing what he was doing and retracting it quickly. "Today, after classes, I'll make sure you have a good birthday." he checked his watch before standing from the bed and heading for the door. "Are you going to come down for breakfast today?"

Sherlock groaned in annoyance at the mention of classes and the thought of other people. "Fine. Just let me get changed."

***

  
**2:13pm**

 

*tick, tick, tick*

Sherlock watched the hands of the clock, each of them moving tediously slowly for his liking. The junior consulting detective figured that he was excited about what John was planning to do after classes finished. He hadn't been properly excited since he was about eight years old and he wasn't sure if it was a welcome feeling.

***

The bell finally chimed at 3:20pm and the young detective practically jumped up from his seat, running down the stairs and out of the building. He ran into dorm building B and up to Johns door. Sherlock stood outside the room fidgeting, watching all the students coming up from the stairs with eagle like precision, waiting for John.

***

  
**Johns POV:**

 

I walked up the stairs and headed towards my room. Smiling as I reached the top of the stairs at the sight of Sherlock fidgeting in front of the door, waiting patiently. Well, for him anyway.

I was within a metre of the taller boy before he asked if I was ready to go. Apparently I was already taking too long.

"Just wait, I want to get out of my uniform first and put my bag down." I laughed. "Why don't you get changed and throw your bag into your room. Then we can go."

Sherlock quickly unlocked his room and shot inside. I shook my head at the boy as I walked into my room to get changed as well.

***

  
**3:56pm, 3rd person:**

 

Sherlock quickly got changed into his black shirt, black skinny jeans and red converse, before locking his room and going straight into Johns. Forgetting about the need to knock.

The detective rushed into the room, but quickly turned to face the door again, face quickly turning red. Immediately wishing he had knocked "Shit! Sorry, sorry, sorry!"

"It's fine Sherlock! You've seen me without a shirt on before. I don't mind, really." John said as he pulled on his black and white stripy jumper over his head and then finished off by slipping on his black coat.

The flushed detective turned around from facing the door. Scratching his head awkwardly.

"You're not just going out in that are you?" John asked as he looked the raven haired boy up and down.

"Yes." The detective said frowning slightly. "I fail to see what the problem is."

The shorter boy rolled his eyes as he walked over to his wardrobe. "You know, for a genius, you can be incredibly thick sometimes." John pulled a hoodie out and tossed it at Sherlock. "Put that on."

The 'genius' pulled the faded light blue hoodie on over his head. Although the arms where a bit short for him, he was practically swimming in it. Because of all the spot that John plays, his shoulders and chest were rather larger than his own.

The detective pulled at the sleeves, holding the ends in each of his hands.

"Common then, let's go." John said as he picked up the key to his room and his phone, putting them both in the back pocket of his blue jeans.

***

By the time the boys finally made it into the village streets, dark clouds had rolled their way over the sky, covering the only warmth from the sun they had left.

"What shop would you like to go into?" John asked as they walked down the pavement.

"Umm, that one." The raven haired boy said as he pointed to a small bookshop on the corner end of the street.

John laughed "You had to pick the one furthest away, didn't you?"

Sherlock just rolled his eyes, trying to hold back a smile and failing, as they walked to walked towards the end of the street.

***

  
**4:47pm, Sherlocks POV:**

 

John and I walked into the store, just as it started drizzling outside.

Once we stepped in, greeted with a trademark door chime, we were quick to notice that it was a coffee shop mixed with a book shop.

\---  
To the right of the store, there were about five round tables, with a large window against the far right wall. A few meters down from the door also on the left, following the small pathway, was a glass cabinet with an assortment of baked goods inside, with a checkout counter on top of the cabinet. Behind the counter, against the wall, was a coffee machine. Facing the small pathway and facing the left wall, connecting to the glass cabinet, was a dark wood counter with another till on top. This one made for buying the books. Filling the left side of the store where shelves of books that reached from the floor to the ceiling.  
\---

I walked over to browse among the books, while John decided to take after Mycroft and looked at the assortment of cakes and buns.

 

***

  
**5:53pm**

 

I picked up the three books that had peaked my interest and made my way over to John. The future doctor was currently seated at a round wooden table that sat around the centre of the other seats. Some couples sat in the surrounding tables, happily chatting, as the rain started to come down harder.

I placed the three books down next to the left of the table leg, on the floor. As I did, a heavy thud sounded out across the small room, making a few people look our way in curiosity before returning to their conversations.

I took a seat across from the blond. After I had taken my seat, I noticed a plate in front of me and looked up at him. My brow furring slightly. "What's this?" I asked as I pointed to the cake like thing sat in front of me.

"It's called a bee sting." John grinned, obviously proud of himself. "I thought since you like bees, you would like this. It's quite sweet though, so don't eat it too fast."

I hummed in agreement, making a note to actually eat this as I hadn't eaten all day. "How much do I owe you?" I asked as I started to reach for the black, ragged wallet that sat in the back pocket of my jeans. Alas, I got cut off.

"You don't owe me anything, it's your birthday, I'm buying." The older boy said matter-of-factly as he pushed the cake towards me slightly "and you haven't eaten anything today yet."

I raised my eyebrow _'he noticed again...'_

"You haven't had anything since lunch time a few hours ago..." I retaliated

John laughed a little "You where lost in the world of books for over an hour. I've already had a blueberry Danish and a cup of coffee. What are you getting anyway?"

"Oh, umm" I cleared my throat as I picked up the first book and handed it to John, not quite sure as to how he would react to the titles. "How to kill a man with cutlery, by Shelley von Trampp..." The other boy nodded at it as he scanned over the back cover, while I picked up the second book. "An illustrated guide to human decomposition, by warren court..." I held it above the table in one hand as I waited for John to place the first book down onto the floor. "And finally, a book that I have been looking for for a while, but have never been able to find..." The blond looked expectantly up at me, after he placed the second book atop the first. "Stephen Hawking - My brief history"

John smiled up at me "I meant what would you like to drink, but the books are good too."

I flushed slightly as John laughed and got the waitress. He ordered each of us a tea. Remembering exactly how I liked it.  
\---

I looked down at the Stephen Hawking book in my hands, proudly. I was happy that I had been finally able to find it. Also that my after my tea had just arrived.

I read over the back cover again, before opening to the first page as John sat back in his chair drinking a cup of tea this time. The sound of rain hammering against the windows drowning out the sound of the chatter of the other people sat at the table around us.

***  
 **6:13pm**

My reading was interrupted half a chapter in, when I felt eyes baring into the top of my head. I slowly looked up from the book to see John staring at me, a small smile tugging at the side of his lips. My eyebrow raised.

The blond just shook his head lightly and cleared his throat. Cheeks reddening slightly. "Nothing... just - no...nothing." He smiled slightly as he took another sip from his, now almost finished, tea. I deduced as an attempt to try and hide the flush creeping deeper onto his cheeks.

I frowned slightly as I looked the other boy up and down, trying to find out why he was blushing, before turning back to my book.

***  
 **7:07pm**

John and I stood up from our table after I had finished my bee sting and the cups of tea we had ordered. John picked up the two books from the side of his chair and carefully took the third one out of my arms. I moved to take them from him, but he turned so they were out of reach. "John?"

"Nope. Like I said. I'm buying." The blond said as he moved to try and walk past me.

I stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "You need to stop."

"No, it's your birthday."

"And you've already gotten up early to come down here, only to run back up to the school to wake me up with a cupcake. Then you bought me out after a long and tedious day of school and took me to a bookshop/cafe... I know you don't have much money, John. You need to be able to go to medical school." I took the books out of Johns arms and held them to my chest. "I'm not letting you pay for these, I'm from a wealthy family and have earned a decent amount of money from being a consulting detective. let. Me. Pay."

"I'll make a deal with you." John said as he took the Stephen Hawking book off the top of the pile. "Since you've been looking for this one for a while. It would only be fair for you to get it for your birthday... Then I'll stop." The shorter boy was looking me dead in the eyes and after what seemed like hours of staring. I finally agreed.

***  
 **7:26pm**

After paying for the books, drinks and food, we stood at the stores glass door, just watching the rain poor down outside. The school is roughly a half hour walk away and of course neither one of us had thought to bring an umbrella, although that is more of johns area. So technically it's his fault...

***

  
**3rd person:**

 

The boys decided to catch a cab after sherlock had insisted that his books would get destroyed. Sadly their plan didn't quite work out as planned when the cab came to a stop in front of the black gates of the school and not in front of the building.

After paying and after sherlock slipped two books under his (johns) hoodie and John had slipped on under his coat, they both ran through the gates and up the gravel path to the dorms.

The rain was merciless. After running for a few minutes just to get up to the dorms, they were practically drenched to the bone.

"Well, so much for not getting the books wet..." John said as he dragged a slightly soggy book out from underneath his coat, both boys walking up the stairs. Sherlock mimicking in his actions and taking the two books out from underneath the hoodie. "At least they're not ruined." The shorter boy smiled.

***  
 **8:07pm**

Once the boys had reached the top of the stairs, they made their way over to Sherlocks room. The raven haired boy unlocked the door, taking the third book from John and placing all three down onto the bed. The shorter boy standing underneath the door frame.

"So, Umm. I better go. I have a history assignment I need to finish off." John said as he stayed put, not really wanting to leave.

"Oh...alright." The detective said as he walked over to his friend. "Thank you for making me like birthdays again..." Sherlock said with a small abashed smile.

"You're welcome." John beamed up at the taller boy.

The genius took a small step toward the future doctor and lent down, unsure of himself, as he gave John a very rare, tight hug.

The blogger raised up onto his toes as he wrapped his arms around the birthday boys neck.

After a moment, the detective pulled back slightly, before hesitantly placing a light kiss on his cheek and taking a step back. Completely blushing red, pursing his lips and only willing to look up at the other boy through his eyelashes. The detective wasn't quite sure as to why he had done that. He just knew that he wanted to.

John smiled at Sherlock, before placing one hand gently on his neck and his left hand on his shoulder, as he raised himself up onto his tiptoes again. The blogger smirked at the confused look on Sherlocks face.

"You missed" John whispered as some sort of explanation, placing a soft, chaste kiss, onto the others lips.

Sherlock kissed back, smiling as he did so, although he was still stunned at how the night had turned out. He moved his hands to sit lightly on Johns sides, their noses brushing during the kiss.

The blond eventually pulled back, now standing normally and smiling softly. He lowered his hands from Sherlock and walked over to his room. "Happy birthday, Sherlock." He smiled softly at him, as he unlocked and walked inside his room, shutting the door behind him.

Sherlock stood stunned for a moment in the middle of his door frame, moving a few of his figures to brush over his lips that were tingling slightly. Smiling to himself as he walked into his room.


End file.
